Hold On
by Calumongal
Summary: (post-anime) Millie has a secret. Meryl must keep a promise. And who is this lone gunman after Knives? Just what will Vash do when given an ultimatum he can’t control? Here's brand new chapter 5! Enjoy!
1. Homecoming

Anthor's quick note: Hey, this is my first Trigun fic (YAY), and it has been a little while since I've watched the series, so let me know if I get anything totally wrong. This is based on the anime version, and takes place right after the last episode. Some little details "will" be manga based though, if the anime didn't really clarify something that the manga did, though nothing major (for example, Knives can still make blades sprout from his arm). It's actually the first part of a four fic series, so, I've got a lot of writing to finish, huh? Anyway…so…what are you doing reading this! Read the fic for gosh sakes, I'm looking forward to those reviews about my poor writing! (hehehe)  
  
Disclaimer thingy (which I almost forgot, jeeze!): I don't own Trigun, blah blah blah. If I did, little Knives and Vash would have passed out long ago from too much of my hugging, so there.  
  
Chapter I: Homecoming  
  
  
  
Clouds roiled over the desert, building into massive thunderheads almost as black as an utterly moonless night sky. In the distance, where the mass of darkness had not quite reached, the twin suns, bloody and wreathed in shining haze, dipped toward the distant mountains.  
  
Below this, between shining noon and frigid dusk, a lone figure limped across the sands. His head was held low, for though he was strong, the heat was almost stronger. And his gait was pained, for though his physical body was healing, his mind was still on the verge of tears.  
  
Silently, with only the occasional scrape of boot against sand, Vash brought his brother home.  
  
***  
  
She had left the town square, hard hat slung under her arm, for the scheduled appointment with a lady doctor she had never met, but who's very next words would determine her entire future.   
  
"Yes, the test is definitely positive," the doctor held the test strip so that Millie could see it better. The tiny drop of blood that had been applied to the tissue had now turned from dark red to a pale blackish-blue.  
  
Millie looked down and sighed, clasping her hands in her lap. How could this have happened? She thought - no - she'd known. But, Nick had promised! When they'd held each other, he'd always promised. Now. . .now she knew how much of a cruel lie that had been. Fate had not been kind, but, still, there had to be something somewhere to be happy about.  
  
"Congratulations," the female doctor laughed. "It's your first time, right?"  
  
"Yes," she whispered.  
  
"Then won't your husband be happy! Well, if you have any trouble, any at all, come back here. You hear me?"  
  
Millie looked up at the ceiling , then shifted off the examination table.  
  
"Yes Ma'am. Thank you doctor, I really appreciate it."  
  
"Of course," the woman saw her out, continuing to smile, and shut the door behind her with a little friendly wave.  
  
Millie waved back, faking a smile for probably the first time in her life. Then she descended the steps leading from the porch into the street, and simply stood there.  
  
The wind brushed her legs, pulling at the hems of her socks and the trousers she had on underneath her smock. It swept sand and a soft, slightly humid breeze with it, a possible sign of a coming storm, but she didn't seem to notice. To the east, the sky was still blue, and the clouds were losing their hold on the world as suddenly as they had come, making her wonder if maybe her storm estimate had been premature. Instead, her eyes went to the double sunset, the contrasting pinks and golds taking her mind a million miles from this little desolate world.  
  
Well, one thing was for certain. She couldn't keep this a secret for very long. Nick had known about her suspicions, and it was, at the time, going to be their little secret for awhile until he could get marriage papers and she had started to show. But now, what could she do? Her parents would have to know, and how would they feel? What about her older brothers and sisters? Such a situation was frowned on in her family, because it made her unmarriageable. But. . .but her and Nick's love had felt so right, she'd been so sure that he was the one, and now -   
  
Still, the insurance company would have to know, and she would be put on leave, and her parents would definitely write to her then and ask her why. Yes, why?  
  
And. . .and, she felt her heart ask, what will Vash think?  
  
Nick and Vash had been very close, "gun-brothers" even, if there was such a term. Had Nick, in his moment of excitement after talking to her, told The Stampede about it?  
  
Then, of course, there was Meryl. The older woman was her senior, in more ways then one, she knew. Still, over the years, working together in the barren stretches between towns, they had become something more then that. Millie knew that they were good friends, in such a close way that neither ever mentioned it. Still, she was worried. Meryl had told her never to get involved, and she had tried. But had Meryl ever been in love?  
  
Oh, just what had she done so wrong?  
  
***  
  
Meryl set down her pen and looked out the window. Something was wrong, but she wasn't sure what it could possibly be. All day she'd felt edgy, and now it was interfering with the letter she was writing to her parents. Topping this off with the mood she was in at the moment, it almost seemed like everything was conspiring against her to ruin what little sanity she had left. Sometimes, OK, more then just "sometimes" she simply wanted to scream and get it over with. But in the past couple of days, after Nick's death, that simply hadn't worked.  
  
The odd thing was that she was probably the only person in this town not happy about something. Water had finally been pumped out of the cracked soil, and a late winter shower was possibly on the way. . . somewhere out there. The town council was also planning a festival tonight in celebration. She could see little kids racing down the streets as the light from the twin suns dimmed, laughing and tumbling in the dust. Many of the town's men were even lighting decorative lamps over stoops, as their wives hung streamers and tacked papers inscribed with "Good Luck" symbols to each door. Resting a palm on her chin, Meryl closed her eyes.  
  
Yet, something wasn't right somewhere.  
  
Briefly, her thoughts shifted from Millie, and then to Vash. Well, what was there to say about Millie? She was happy, but then she was always happy. But, well, lately her partner had seemed preoccupied. Millie may have misunderstood many of life's simple things, but her memory was good, and she hardly ever got really worked up over anything, unless it was a matter of love. Yet, now she seemed so. . .well, more disconnected then usual. She had taken Nick's death extremely hard, and in such a strange way that it had surprised the older woman. Meryl knew that her friend had liked him, and he had been making passes at her, after all. They had been hanging out together quite a bit, and she had given them their space, happy to see the other women always smiling. But still, that didn't mean that it was the end of the world.  
  
Right?  
  
Then there was Vash, the one man in this purgatory of a desert that she couldn't quite understand. For a guy, Vash was probably the oddest she'd ever met. All of the boys she'd grown up with were steel-eyed, like the very guns they toted, and as gritty inside and out as the sand beneath their feet. Yet, Vash remained gentle, and he didn't hide it. His soul was different, just as she had imagined the original colonists must have been like.  
  
But she felt nothing but confusion around him, no matter how hard she actually tried in her heart to understand and be his friend. When they were together, she couldn't stand it, and then, when she struck him, as she so often did…she always regretted it later. Sometimes he just acted so childish! Yet. . .what was she going to tell him when he came back. . .IF he came back?  
  
And what about the night before, when she'd found him singing on the cliff? For a split second, she'd felt nothing but surprise. At that moment, she had wanted more then anything to comfort him. He had lost so much, and now he had finally gone off, for better or worse, to end it.   
  
Inside, she didn't quite know if this was love. . .she had only been half-joking with Millie about Vash's return to her. But, she did have so many things that she wanted to say to him. . .so many that she just couldn't say.  
  
Meryl sighed and went back to her letter. Now, at least, she felt that she could probably finish it.  
  
***  
  
"Rem told us many things Knives, but do you remember what she really wanted most of all?"  
  
Vash rolled his brother off his shoulder to make sure that the other was still breathing. Blood even now trickled out of the other man's chest and limbs beneath the bandages, but it was a slow steady drip, not the throbbing gush that would have meant the injury was not clotting properly.  
  
To the west, the crimson and soft rose in the sunset glinted over his leather armor and along his knee and elbow guards. He looked to the east, where azure sky still reigned, then back at his brother's wounds, reaching down a hand to touch one of his shoulders.  
  
Knives winced at his touch, but was too far gone at the moment to say anything through the pain. His brother's whole body trembled, and Vash felt his vision blur. He had done this, and yet, still he cared so much about his twin. Was he really no better, then? Was he such a hypocrite? Without a concrete "plan", confronting Knives and all of his own ideals in the same moment, he had made the best choice he felt could be made. They were the only ones of their kind, and he didn't think that he could live by avenging Rem's death with another, let alone exist as the only member of his kind.   
  
But why couldn't Knives see things as they really were? Why couldn't he just accept that the humans, plants, animals, the desert, they were all part of one important whole! Inside his heart, he knew that he couldn't bear to lose either the humans or his brother.   
  
But where was the middle ground?  
  
"You don't remember at all, do you?"  
  
Knives mumbled something, and Vash bent down, tenderly cupping the other's head in his long fingers.  
  
"What?"  
  
Coughing, Knives opened one of his eyes, the one that had not swelled completely closed with an ugly bruise. But that single eye held so much anger, pain, and hatred-mixed scorn, that Vash didn't quite know what to think. Such intense hatred was completely beyond him.  
  
"Of course I remember, you idiot. She said that, no matter what, she wanted us to love each other and stay together. But life got in the way. . .eh? You really did come to "take care of me", didn't you?"  
  
The statement shocked Vash, and he wrinkled the bridge of his nose in disgust, eyes becoming glassy.  
  
"How can you hate so much, and yet still be my twin at the same time?"  
  
Knives chuckled, coughing up blood.  
  
"Here's some news, little brother, we aren't identical."  
  
A single tear glimmered at the corner of Vash's vision, and dropped down onto his brother's nose.  
  
"Hey," Knives snarled, then gasped in pain, "what are you crying over? What a baby! You always were. You know, that spider Rem was right about one thing. You need my guidance and protection more then anything, don't you?"  
  
Vash sighed, and his lips tightened in pain, his bow creasing in a way that made him look at least twenty years older.  
  
"Your protection, perhaps. . .but never your guidance Knives. In that way, you need me more then you'll ever know. I'm not such a fool after all."   
  
Then," Knives whispered, flashing sharp white teeth at Vash, "why don't you act your age and just leave me here? You know that carrying me, in your state, you won't make it back. Maybe it's better that way. . .maybe Rem would have wanted it. Besides, I'm half-dead anyway."  
  
"NO!"  
  
Vash shot to his feet, his shadow casting darkness over the many curves and planes of the other's face. His twin, now that Vash thought about it, did look like the stronger of the two. Where Knives was more muscular, his features worn by the flow and twist of time, Vash was slender and lanky, with a youthful appearance that made many people blindly believe his charade of stupidity. It was an interesting, and odd thought at such a painful moment.  
  
"Knives, if I leave you. . .and, and you survive. . .you'll just come back to hurt me, to hurt those I love. You. . .you killed Nick. . .he was my best friend. . ." The outlaw sniffed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he shut his eyes in a grimace of intense pain.  
  
"But brother, I only wanted what was best for you - for us! The spiders don't deserve to hurt us, or our brethren that they so cruelly harvest and consume. Do you think they know plants feel pain? Do you think they would care?"  
  
"Do you care?"  
  
Knives' eyes widened, and he choked.  
  
"What?!"  
  
Vash opened his own eyes, and the light blue-green orbs were soft as they turned down to his brother, poignant and forgiving.  
  
"You hurt me, and I am your own blood, half your soul, when you think about it. Yet, yet you were so willing to go ahead with it. I could have died Knives! Did you really want the world all to yourself? Really? How selfish. . .how, childish!"  
  
"But brother -"  
  
"No more!" Vash held up a hand, and his pupils narrowed in anger. "There was a time when you loved Rem as much as I did, and what happened? You killed her out of spite and childish jealousy, because this is really about not being human, isn't it? You can't fit in so you kill those that can! Sometimes, yes, sometimes I know that I think no better then you. . .but it is actions that determine our fate, not our thoughts. You hear me Knives!"  
  
He bent down and grabbed his brother by the collar of his body suit, pulling the other's head off the sand with the force of his anger.  
  
"I will still honor Rem's memory. . .because she was my mother. But for you, I will no longer be a slave to it! You have much to learn until you are truly my brother. . .right now, I don't even know what you are."  
  
For a second, Knives truly looked hurt, and in that moment Vash saw the little boy that he had separated with so many years ago.  
  
He's still in there, the outlaw realized, beaten and hidden, but he's still there.  
  
"Then. . .then just kill me Vash!"   
  
Knives tried to sit up, but the wound in his chest ripped open again, and he rolled onto his side, gasping and shivering.  
  
"No," Vash sighed, "no more killing, not ever. Besides, death would be too good for you."  
  
His twin grimaced in a parody of a thankful smile.  
  
"Ah then," he murmered, "I guess you wish to play the brother's keeper?"  
  
"Damn straight," and the other dipped down to grab his brother's hands.  
  
***  
  
"So Meryl, where are they holding this party tonight? I heard it's going to be big!"  
  
Millie tipped open the window shade and looked out of the dusty glass and into the street. Behind her in the shade of the living room Meryl was busy washing her clothes, having used well water from a barrel out on the back porch. The same back porch of the house that they were currently loaning from some locals. She didn't look up, but continued to scrape one of her cloaks against the washboard as she started to speak.  
  
"Well, it's a small town, so I don't think it'll be that much of a party. Just the townspeople getting together to celebrate the work crew's accomplishments."  
  
"Oh," Millie seemed to think about this for a second, then she grinned in understanding. "It is a small town Meryl, but if it's anything like my hometown, they can get pretty rowdy!"   
  
She blushed in remembrance, and the older woman looked up, surprised.  
  
"You're so funny sometimes, I don't know what I would do without you."  
  
"Probably run around in circles screaming at Vash, but then, that's just my idea afterall!"  
  
Meryl smirked, rising up from the wooden stool to go hang her cloak on the line of rope she had strung up across the room. From this vantage point she could see that almost the whole town had gathered out by the well, cheering and laughing. It was a kind of happiness that she hadn't seen in so long that her heart ached to join them, and she was very relieved when Millie spoke up behind her.  
  
"Oh, ma'am, look! They're selling cotton candy out there! Lets go get some, come on!"  
  
The other woman felt her partner's long fingers wrap around her own, and in seconds they were back in the street and moving toward the well. Milling around in the crowd were various venders, selling food and the occasional bottled soda, but Millie only had eyes for the young girl who was rolling pink fluff onto paper cones.  
  
Sliding along and trying to keep up to the other's longer strides, Meryl looked back over her shoulder, and suddenly dug in her heels. She stopped so abruptly that Millie tripped, and they landed in a disheveled heap on the warm, water-soaked sand.  
  
"Um," Millie helped the other woman up as she dusted off her smock, "what's wrong ma'am?"  
  
"Millie! Millie look back down the street and tell me what you see!"  
  
Both turned in unison, and their eyes brightened at the sight.  
  
"Why Meryl, I do believe that's Mr. Vash! He came back, yup he did!"  
  
In the distance, framed by the blue sky and the glaring light of the sinking suns, Vash saw them and smiled, his first real smile in so long that he'd long since forgotten who he had given the last one to. Millie saw the smile and raced out over the sand, arms in the air and smile wider then his own. Behind her, Meryl tried to contain her excitement and quell the sudden feeling of anger that threatened to overwhelm her happiness. She trotted toward them both as Millie helped Vash put down Knives for a moment to rest his shoulder. As he rubbed at the muscles in his neck, the girl abruptly threw her arms around him and squeezed, causing him to squirm in discomfort.  
  
"Hey there big girl! Eh, watch the shoulder! Oof, can't breathe-"  
  
"Oh, Mr. Vash! We were so worried about you. . .and Meryl, she couldn't stop talking about how-"  
  
"About what Millie?" Meryl had come up beside them both, her usual business frown back in place. The other woman let go of Vash, who heaved a huge sigh.  
  
"Why, about seeing Mr. Vash again Meryl! Don't you have something to say to him?"  
  
"Other then the fact that he was an irresponsible idiot, no! Is that your brother you brought back with you? He looks dead."  
  
Vash grimaced, taken aback by her words, and looked down at Knives. The other man was still breathing, but very slowly, stretched out on the sand in relaxed unawareness. Why did Meryl always have to talk to him like this, he thought she was his friend, right?  
  
"He's - he's not dead. Just, he's wounded and sleeping while he heals. I. . .aren't you glad I came back? That I came back home?"  
  
Meryl drew in a sharp breath, her eyes widening at his words.  
  
He came back to me, he said he came back home. Does that mean that his home is with me? Her mind raced with a thousand wild thoughts and feelings, none of which she was able to quite control. Maybe that was why she couldn't stand him, because he made her lose all that control?  
  
"Oh Meryl," Millie breathed, "look at Mr. Vash."  
  
The shorter woman looked up, only to see the confusion in the gunman's eyes. He was glancing at her, but in such a way that it was obvious he was waiting for her to slap him.   
  
When he looks at me like that, her mind answered her heart, you just can't hate him anymore.  
  
"Welcome home Vash," Meryl spread her arms, and he knelt down slightly to embrace her as well. She could feel his hands, strong and loving against her back, and she knew that this-  
  
"Ouch," he pulled away, looking pained. She peered down at her hands as if they had suddenly grown spikes, but, of course, there was nothing different about them.  
  
"What's wrong? Oh my."  
  
He was holding his shoulder, and his side, blood seeping through his gloved fingers. She looked down at the front of her cape, only to see the clean white stained crimson.  
  
"You're bleeding a lot! Millie, help me get Vash and his brother back to the house."  
  
"Hey girls, don't worry about me! It's just a little blood, I've had worse. I could really use your help though with Knives. He was gettin' kinda heavy."  
  
"Sure," Millie offered, the concern not leaving her eyes, despite her smiling lips. She grabbed Knives' arms and gently hauled him onto her own shoulder, then headed off toward the house. Vash watched them go, then took an uncertain step forward, trying to hide his discomfort.  
  
"You know," Meryl whispered, "you can lean on me if you think it'll help. Really, I'm stronger then I look, what with carrying all those derringers around-"  
  
"That's okay," Vash gave her one of his pained smiles, then turned back to walking.   
  
She followed him up to the stairs like a mother hen, then into the house. He glanced around, then collapsed into one of the wooden chairs at the table in the center of the room. A trail of blood followed him across the floor, and more continued to drip down from his shoulder and onto his legs. He leaned his head into his arms, resting his cheek against the cool table, and passed out without another word.  
  
Muffled footsteps thumped down the hall, and Millie came back to see Meryl standing as if in a daze by the door. The younger woman noticed all the blood, and gasped.  
  
"Meryl! Didn't you notice that Mr. Vash is bleeding to death!"  
  
"Hum?" She looked up, giving Millie an odd glance and seeming to come out of her reverie. "Ack! You're right, he is, how could I be so stupid! And at a time like this!"  
  
"It's okay," she gave the other girl a little smile, "just run and get the lady doctor down the street. I'll boil water and work on stopping the bleeding. Besides, we really need somebody to look at Knives, he's wounded pretty bad and he needs new bandages."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Meryl glanced back at Millie, then opened the door and dashed away, mud and sand covering her boots as the well's geyser rained water all around her feet.  
  
On the roof, a little black cat finished licking the rest of the beer out of a yellow and white can that she had managed to purloin the other day. Weaving back and forth, the very drunk feline shook her fur and got to her tiny paws. She stood there for about ten seconds, let out a broken meow, and tumbled off the roof along with the empty beer container.  
  
Together, cat and can floated away in the watery cascade lining the streets.  
  
  
  
Endnotes: Wow, you read all that (I must be doing something right)! So, that's the first chapter. . .hope you liked it! The real plot is about to start in the next chapter, which is why I thought I'd put up both of them, just to get things going. Anyway, review and let me know if you liked it or didn't (constructively, of course) and if you would like me to continue, ok? Thanks so much! 


	2. Party Crashers

Author's quick note: This chapter is mainly Meryl and Millie (but there is a little bit of Vash). I like Millie and Meryl a lot, and both of them have personality quirks that remind me of myself (Meryl somewhat, she reminds me *cough* a little bit of myself on a bad day *more coughing* And Millie's kinda naive. . .like everybody says I am! *sobs*). They're also easier to write for, because they're girls. . .and well, being a girl myself it's just easier, ya know? I promise (for the fans) more Vash next chapter, I swear, but I do think the girls are kinda cool, (how many animes have strong women that can be innocent and sweet one minute. . .then pull out a high-caliber weapon in the next?) and I don't think they get enough fanfic attention, so they deserve this!   
  
  
  
Me:*pulls Kuroneko out of her writer's notebook* "Disclaimer, if you please!"  
  
Kuroneko-sama: "Nyao, Nyao. . .prrrrrrrr. . ."  
  
Me: "In Neko-ese, that means, you can't sue me, 'cause I own nothing! Not even my college education! So don't even try!" *laughs like Knives* "On with the torture show!"  
  
Chapter II: Party Crashers  
  
Meryl leaned forward in the chair, rubbing at her hair with the soft white towel. She pulled it off her head and looked up, only to watch Millie giggle.  
  
"Hey. . .what's so wrong!"  
  
"Nothing Ma'am, it's just. . .all your hair is sticking up!"  
  
Meryl plopped the towel back onto her head and continued to rub at her damp hair, trying to get all of the water out. She was feeling practically soaked from her run across the street!  
  
"Well," Millie went back to washing her own clothes in the bucket. "I'm glad Mr. Vash and his brother aren't going to die! Aren't you? I mean, even if Vash does have a fever-"  
  
"Um, I think it was pretty obvious that they weren't going to die. I mean, come on, you're talking about the "humanoid disaster" here, he lives through everything!"  
  
"Yah, I suppose so," Millie continued to smile, "but haven't you noticed how he smiles sometimes. . .he's so sad. Inside, I don't think he feels so well at all."  
  
The other woman looked up, surprised. Maybe Vash had been right about Millie. . .she had a funny way of getting things so right sometimes.  
  
"Well, whatever. Anyway, they're gonna be fine," she paused, her thoughts taking over.  
  
At least, I think so, a voice inside answered her. The doctor said that they would be fine, but then, why do I feel so terrible about it?  
  
"Do you think Mr. Vash's brother will decide to help us out? What is Vash gonna do now that he's found him, do you know? I saw you two on that cliff last night," her smile widened, "did he tell you?"  
  
Meryl felt her cheeks go hot. What was so wrong with her? She definitely was not in love. She'd been in love before, and this wasn't love. . .this was more like, like, craziness! She took the towel off her head and fished a brush out of the cloak she had leaned over her chair.  
  
"Of course he DIDN'T tell me anything! I can't hardly stand him! Anyway, you better hurry up if you want to go to that party."  
  
"Are you coming?" Millie finished scrubbing the water out of her sand-colored cloak and turned back around to grab the washtub.  
  
"Sure, I'll go. If nothing else I guess I should just keep you from drinking too much."  
  
"Oh, I'm not going to drink tonight."  
  
Meryl's eyes focused on Millie while she tried to comb the tangles out of her short locks.  
  
"Uh, but I thought you liked to drink?"  
  
The other woman stopped moving the washtub, startled. How was she going to explain this away? Drinking was bad for the baby, but she couldn't tell Meryl yet, she wasn't ready.  
  
"I - I just don't want to have a hangover tomorrow, you know? Someone has to look after Mr. Vash and his brother, right?" She widened her grin, trying to divert the topic while Meryl peered at her in suspicion.   
  
"Millie, you're starting to scare me. You're actually sounding smart today."  
  
"Thank you ma'am, now I gotta go pour this out. When I get back we can go."  
  
Ten minutes and two new outfits later, the girls walked through the swinging doors of the White Lie Bar and Grill. The party hadn't really kicked into full swing yet, but one of the barmaids was already serving drinks to a few men up at the counter. A couple of dancing girls were setting up their act on the stage to the left of the tables in preparation, but they hadn't adjusted lights or moved their various feather boas and dancing chairs into place yet.  
  
"Would you like something?"  
  
The young girl serving as barmaid leaned toward them as she walked from the guys at the counter to another table, looking tired but excited. The other women realized that she was talking to them, and Millie grinned.  
  
"How about a bannana split, yah, and what would you like, ma'am?"  
  
"Oh, a cup of mint tea is fine for me. Where is everybody?"  
  
She couldn't have spoken sooner, because at that moment a crowd of half-drunk revelers burst through the door, carrying beer tankards and singing as far off-key as was humanly possible.  
  
"I'll be right back," the barmaid laughed, then shook her head and dashed off.  
  
The men at the bar counter must have been friends with the new arrivals, because they hopped off their stools and ran over to mingle with the crowd. Meryl scrunched up her nose and made a disgusted sound before leading Millie back to a table that was both far from the stage and the drunks.  
  
"But. . .but ma'am! I wanted to watch the show that those nice young girls are gonna put on! It looked like fun!"  
  
The other woman shook her head. "I don't think you want to see that kind of show, it's for the boys."  
  
"Oh," she seemed disappointed, "then Mr. Vash is going to be pretty sad, he would have loved it!"  
  
There was no helping that girl, Meryl thought. Sometimes it was best to just let her wear her tongue out.  
  
The barmaid came back and gave them the dessert and tea. A bunch of young boys and girls in their middle teens staggered through the bar doors, shoving each other and calling for beer. The woman wiped her brow and raced off into the kitchen, probably to get more help. The dancing girls had started their routine, and many of the young boys, not nearly drunk enough, but too stupid to care, jumped up onto the stage to dance with them. Yep, the party was definitely underway.  
  
* **  
  
The blankets curled around his legs like phantom snakes, soaked with his own fever-sweat and twisted from repeated movement. His breathing increased, and he could feel his heart thudding in his throat and ears, but he couldn't open his eyes. Curling and uncurling his fingers, Vash rolled onto his side, the pain in his shoulder making him wince.  
  
Where was he? In this land of fever-dreams Vash sunk deeper, landing on soft grass, even his dream body aching as he gained his feet. Cool wind swept over him, and everything looked so big again, like it had when he had been little.   
  
Then, he realized the truth. He was back in the Rec Room on board the SEEDS ship. He looked around for Rem, expecting her, as he so often did in his flashback dreams. But she wasn't within sight. Instead, in the distance, young Knives stood over Legato's cooling body, looking frightened and confused and not like Knives at all. He turned to Vash, but his mouth only had time to open before the sound of a gunshot rippled over the hill they stood on, ending in a bloody hole in Knives' chest.   
  
Vash turned, tears in his eyes as his brother fell to the ground sobbing in pain. Behind him, Cross Punisher still smoking, was Nicholas. He turned to Vash, then dropped his weapon to the grass as tears streaked down his cheeks.  
  
"I had to do it. . .I'm. . .I'm only human Vash. . .I'm only…."  
  
Torn between comforting his friend and helping his brother, the little boy shivered, backing away, and ran into something soft. He looked up to see Steve, grinning down at him as the man drew back his hand.  
  
"Monster! Why did you have to go and ruin everything! You aren't human and you never will be!"  
  
"But. . .but I. . ."  
  
Where was he really? Would it hurt when Steve's fist came down? Too delirious to recognize the dream for the figment that it was, Vash's muscles back in his real body tensed, and he leapt off the bed with a scream of fright and anguish. The field disappeared and darkness once more claimed him, revealing the cold wooden floor beneath his cheek and the barren walls surrounding him. Still confused, his head pounding in heat-induced pain, he curled into a fetal ball, wrapped in blankets and shivering from a frigid feeling that nothing material could cure.  
  
"Vash, honey. . .don't cry. What is there to cry about, I'm here."  
  
Two cool feminine hands pulled his head onto a warm lap, and he looked up through tear-hazed eyes and into a face he thought that he would never see again.  
  
"Rem. . .but how. . .um?" There she was, as unlikely as it seemed, comforting and solid, her hands surrounding him.  
  
"Shhhh, don't get so worked up about it. Does it matter why I'm here. . .perhaps I'm not, you know?" She ruffled his hair, smiling in that sweet way that had always made him feel so warm inside.  
  
"Don't say that," he pulled one of her hands into the only real one that he had left. Her flesh felt warm, real. But he knew that he couldn't trust what he felt anymore, too many times his heart had betrayed him. "Stay with me, here, on Gunsmoke. . .please!"  
  
"I can't do that, you know and I know that this isn't meant to be."  
  
"Then why did you come at all? Why?"  
  
Sobbing like a frightened child, he sat up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, squeezing as tightly as possible, as if it would prevent her from leaving him alone. She didn't move in his grasp, but her eyes took on the faraway look of one who is no longer focusing on the present.  
  
"Your dreams, Vash. . .in them, you see so much of humanity. . .but you never really understand it, do you?"  
  
"Understand. . .Rem. . .I understand nothing anymore, not even you. I couldn't honor you, I killed, and then I couldn't even save Knives without mortally wounding him. He will probably live. . .but I would have killed him, I think. It scares me. I try to do what you told me. . .but when I needed you, you weren't there, and then Nick died, and you weren't there either! I didn't know what to do!"  
  
"I can't hold your hand forever."  
  
The shock of these words made Vash look up.  
  
"You're my little boy, and I love you more then anything. But you are a man now, and even though I don't love you any less, I still know that you can't live the life I would have lived. Not on Gunsmoke, and not as a plant. You need to make your own path, like you told me, if you ever hope to find peace. . .any peace at all."  
  
"But I don't understand humans! I try…I try so hard, but I can't even understand my own brother. He hates so much, I don't know what to do with him. I've brought him back with me, but now what should I do?"  
  
"Love him, follow your heart, help him follow his. You've seen that he's not completely gone. . .but his soul is so far from peace now that it will take more then you to help him. . .I don't know. . .I just don't know honey. Your ticket to the future is always blank, but this time, it is also going to be a little worn."  
  
"God must hate me," he sighed, "I try and try and try, and what do I get? Rem. . .Rem?"  
  
Vash realized that the comforting warmth in his arms was gone, but there was now a soft humming in his head. She was humming Sound Life.  
  
"Sleep. . .sleep little Vash, feel peace, sleep."  
  
He crawled back into the bed, sniffling, and sobbed himself to sleep as Rem whispered Sound Life for him alone.  
  
***  
  
"Hmmmm, they can't see us from this distance, can they? And how sweet, they're having a little party!"  
  
The light of three full moons flooded the desert, casting long shadows over the brittle sand, and dissipating above a gully where six forms curled in waiting positions. A seventh dashed away from the town, slipping like a shadow between sinkholes and quicksand pockets. One of the shadowed forms standing with the others stood up from its crouch, its features unreadable in the darkness.  
  
The approaching figure twisted along the side of one of the dunes, and it then became obvious that, whatever it was, it wasn't human. It swung down the side of the dune, huge paws crunching the sand with dry rasping noises. The human figure that had been watching it stepped up, raising a hand.  
  
"What did you see out there…was HE there?"  
  
:I, it was too closed in to see well:, the creature spoke to the human's mind, its inner voice rough and tired, :but. . .I did smell him, and something else odd.:  
  
"What was so odd?" The other's voice took on an interested lilting quality, intrigued that there could be more excitement this night then what they had already planned.  
  
:Not sure. . .maybe he isn't alone?: The long shadow hunched itself, frightened by the other's tone of voice.  
  
"Well, I don't care. One way or another, this is going to be fun. Come on boys and girls, lets party!"  
  
The other five figures growled, eyes flashing yellow in the night as they rose to all fours. Then, as one, the seven shapes dashed toward the town.  
  
* * *  
  
"Oh look Meryl, it's that little black kitty that's always following Mr. Vash around!"  
  
Meryl peered under the table where her partner was pointing, only to see a cat with the biggest eyes in the history of Gunsmoke staring at her with the hungriest expression she had ever seen a feline manage.  
  
"Here you go, Mrs. Kitty!" Millie put her half-finished dessert under the table, and watched the cat dig in with nothing short of delight. "Oh, look. . .it's so happy now!"  
  
The other woman looked up and rolled her eyes. "I need more tea, I think. This is gonna be a long night. So where is that barmaid anyway?"  
  
  
  
The young girl that had helped them earlier was currently wiping beer off the front of her blouse and wondering if she was getting a raise for this. She thought that, if she didn't, then someone in whatever Heaven was reserved for those of Gunsmoke must really hate her.   
  
She needed a drink of water, but then there was an actual knock at the closed door, and nobody else seemed to have heard it. Why would someone knock at all? They could just come in, or didn't everyone know that? Beating the washcloth she had used to wipe at the beer against her legs, she marched over to the door, avoiding grabs and pinches by various unwashed male hands.  
  
"Uh, hello? You can come in, you know. You don't have to. . .um. . .AHHHHHHH!"  
  
Screeching at the top of her lungs, she made a lunge for the wall, away from the swinging bar doors and the darkness beyond. But the darkness followed her, flowing into the bar in the form of three huge catlike shapes.  
  
At her scream, many of the tables occupants turned around, and the girls on the stage froze, eyes wide.  
  
The bartender dropped the glass he was rubbing over and pulled a shotgun out from under the counter, cursing loudly.  
  
"Hey, what's a bunch of sandcats doing in town anyways! You, git!"  
  
He fired a warning shot at one of the tawny-brown shapes, and the creature turned its four eyes on him, snarling and unsheathing its claws, but not backing down.  
  
"It's okay brother, I won't let him shoot you."   
  
A human-like figure, clad in robes and a hood the same color as the cats stepped in behind them, three other vicious-looking beasts watching its back. The voice was vaguely masculine, enough to confirm that, whoever this was, they were a young man. He reached down and caressed the creatures head, and it rubbed against his hand, fangs flashing in the light of many smoky lamps. Silence filled the bar.  
  
"I heard you were having a party. . .am I right?"  
  
"We may be that," the bartender called back, "but men like you aren't invited, only townies!"  
  
"Ah," the young man whispered, almost too low for any but those closest to the door to hear. "I smell people in here that don't belong to this town. . .don't I?"  
  
"Smell?" The bartender looked appalled, "who the hell are you?"  
  
"Hmmm," the figure put a finger to his lips, "that's a bit easier to answer. I'm your death!"  
  
One of the sandcats grabbed a man at the table closest to them, ripping into his shoulders with its claws and dragging him screaming out into the darkness and its siblings beyond the door. There were sounds of cracking and snarling in the background as the man's pleas were abruptly cut off. The bartender turned white, then, looking furious, stepped out from behind his counter.  
  
"Who do you think you are, coming in here and ruining our party! You just killed that man, and he didn't do nothin' to you! Let us know what you want, then get out!"  
  
"Better yet," Meryl stood up and slid in between tables until she was standing only a few feet from the intruder, Millie right behind. "Why don't you just get out!"  
  
"Oh, lookit' the little lady. You're kinda cute honey, really. But I don't have time for you right now, so why don't you get back to me in a couple minutes?"  
  
"I'm serious," she pulled out one of her derringers and slid to the side in a proper shooting stance. "You get out or we carry you out."  
  
"Yah," Millie added, trying to look threatening, which really wasn't a Millie thing at all. She just ended up looking confused.  
  
One of the sandcats growled, licking its whiskers as it looked over the girls. Millie noticed the way it was looking at Meryl, and pulled out her stungun.  
  
"Tell your ugly kitty to stop looking at Meryl that way, or I'm gonna make it go to sleep!" She aimed the huge gun barrel at the beast, actually looking like she meant it.  
  
"Umm, OK...," the man grimaced in what could only be shocked surprise. "Sure, sure, calm down big girl...uh, and her short friend. Yah, I'll tell you what I want. Sister, get over here!"  
  
The sandcat that had been looking at the girls like they were a main course snorted and turned away, going back to the others that were milling outside the building.  
  
"So, here's what I want. I'm actually looking for a man, maybe you've seen him? He's over six feet, but not by much, pretty skinny last I seen. He. . .his name is Millions Knives, and he owes me. Yes, you wouldn't believe how much he owes me."  
  
Unconsciously, Meryl felt her body tense. What could this man possibly want with Vash's brother? As far as she had heard, no one who actually met Knives ever lived to tell others about it.  
  
"Um. . .we don't know who this 'Knives' is," Millie lied, causing Meryl to give her a sharp glance. "So why don't you just leave. We can't help you."  
  
The man glanced around the room, then sighed, his shoulders slumping.  
  
"Once again, you lie to me. And not too well either, I might add. Knives is here. . .somewhere in this town. I won't bother to look for him, it was as obvious to me then as it is now that he is too much of a coward to face me as I am. Very well."  
  
"Leave already," Meryl snarled, "you're dumb blabbering is wasting our time!"  
  
"Yes," he looked down at her, and even through the darkness of his hood, she could feel his stare, "and no. I am not through with Knives yet, because he and I share a destiny, one which he has brought upon himself. Since he will not come forth, I give him ten days to prepare whatever feeble advantage against me he might have. In ten days I will return to this town, and if I do not see Knives. . .then," his eyes scanned the room, "I will hunt down every last one of you in this room, and end each of your pitiful existences. . .slowly. And I can do that, so do not try to run, that only makes it more fun for my siblings here."  
  
He turned to go, cloak sliding along the floorboards, rasping against his leather boots.  
  
"Oh," he whispered, "and one more thing. Tell Knives that Caverral the Demon says hi."  
  
The swinging doors creaked on their hinges, leaving the entrance empty. Meryl looked up at Millie, who was sliding her stun gun back under her smock. Slowly, the other woman followed suit and holstered her derringer.  
  
Behind them, everything remained silent, as if no one quite knew what to say or do.  
  
"Ma'am," Millie leaned down, "I think we've got a problem."  
  
Meryl just shook her head.  
  
  
  
Endnotes: Well, my college journalism class has me down….those seven 250 word essays per lesson are killing me! So cut me some slack, my little fingers are tired. Therefore, the next update will take a couple more days. Hold your horses, you could use some suspense, couldn't you? Check back then, and until that time, review for me, I'll love you forever….really! And I'll try my hardest to review for you! 


	3. What You Leave Behind

Author's quick note: WOW! I got so many reviews, I just don't know what to say! Okay, THANK YOU THANK YOU!!! (how's that?) You guys make me wanna write more. . .instead of doing my homework (who needs it?). Here's the third chapter, as promised! I've updated quite early because, well, I had more written down in my notebook then I thought (amazing but true, I know), and my ancient civilizations class let out early this week, so more writing time. We're studying Egypt at this point, for those interested. And happy Friday the 13th!   
  
Thank You's: Thank you to Neptune Butterfly (who loves Kuroneko as much as I do!), Rosebud (you're making a connection here, I gotta hand it to you, but not quite in the way you think), Magnet-Rose (you reviewed both chapters for me in one night, wow), AnonymousTrigunOtaku (I'm so glad you like it!), Jami (thanks!) and Chibi Chibi (I think you might be catching on a little too), Cheese puff knows all (Millie bashing? Oh, if I did, I'm both sorry and I didn't mean it. I'll watch myself from now on a little more!). And muchos gracias to my first reviewer Jaina!   
  
Disclaimer: Trigun. . .it just isn't mine. You can see this because I'm a poor college student. Such would not be the case if I did own it, trust me on this one.  
  
Chapter III: What You Leave Behind  
  
Sunlight poured through the window, slanting down over wooden floorboards and pooling like liquid warmth throughout the bedroom. It glistened along ruffled strands of flaxen hair, slid across a pale forehead, and fit itself through thin eyelids. The sleeper sighed, thinking about turning over, but didn't. Two confused aquamarine eyes opened, and blinked.  
  
Somewhere in the distance, a rooster let out a strangled crow before it was seized by a sleep-deprived housewife. A cat meowed for it's late breakfast, and was met by a flapping ball of squawking feathers instead. Then all was silent once more.  
  
And for the first time in three days, Vash the Stampede opened his eyes without immediate pain. Better yet, he opened them and understood that he'd done so! The realization that he was still alive was so wonderful, that for a moment he merely relaxed and savored it, letting the increasing delight filter through his mind in little ripples.  
  
Obviously, his fever had broken. But that hadn't taken care of everything. The world had still turned in his absence, with or without a spiky-haired idiot to help it along. Still. . .he still felt so incredibly tired that it was hard to even think about it all, or even think about moving, actually. But he had to at some point, best to start off with the basics anyway.   
  
With this in mind, he pulled his mechanical arm out from under the covers and flexed the fingers experimentally, then brushed the wispy blond hair out of his eyes. Able to see much more now, he glanced down at the golden light cascading along his quilt-covered legs and onto his equally-hidden feet.  
  
Something didn't quite feel right, and in a moment, he knew what it was. His internal clock was telling him that quite a bit of time had passed, though it looked to be merely the morning after his return. This didn't fit with things at all. But then, neither did his current location. Last he remembered, he was. . .oh, passed out at the living room table?  
  
Well, whatever. This wasn't the first time he had been in such unfamiliar territory. At least it wasn't a ladies' bed. . .hopeful?. . .maybe?. . .no. Okay then, time to take stock of all four limbs.  
  
Vash eased his pillow back against the headboard on the bed, then aligned his spine with it, using only his mechanical arm for support. The other shoulder hurt too much to put pressure on, a quick, testing movement of the wrist had proven that, so he didn't even attempt anything more with it.   
  
Looking over things from a better vantage point, what amazed him the most from this position was that he was no longer dressed in his leather body armor. Or the jeans and blue shirt that he normally wore beneath them. Instead, a light gray, cotton robe had taken their place, the kind that buttoned up over both shoulders like a poncho. He definitely knew that this wasn't his, he didn't own anything this comfortable, except for maybe that old coat. . .but he had thrown that away, hadn't he?  
  
Stretching out his legs, Vash wiggled each one of his toes until he decided that, though stiff, all ten were present. He even looked at his right hand, counted the fingers, then left them alone too. Even they hurt too much to try that again.  
  
Wait. . .something, somewhere was. . .purring?  
  
Leaning completely against the headboard and freeing up his still-useful arm, Vash lifted the blanket slightly to reveal Kuroneko-sama, asleep on his stomach and purring happily in the darkened warmth. Smiling, he placed the quilt back down again, hardly touching the unconscious cat.  
  
Boot-steps thumped down a hallway somewhere, and he looked up. The door that lay directly across the room from the bed opened slightly. A smiling face peeked through the gap.  
  
"Oh wonderful! I'm so happy to see that you're finally with us again Mr. Vash! Wait a moment."  
  
The face disappeared, then returned about a minute later and Millie stepped into the room. Her smile was just as unrealistically sincere as always, but to a man that hadn't seen a smile in three days, it was heartwarming.   
  
However, what his eyes themselves unconsciously drifted to was the tray in her hands, with bread and a soup bowl atop it, steam rising from the surface in a slow tantalizing cloud. His stomach growled, and Kuroneko growled back, angry at being disturbed during her beauty sleep.  
  
"Well, I can see at least your belly's happy to see me!" She laughed, brushing hair out of her eyes, and Vash couldn't help but blush at the remark.  
  
"Oh, I'm very happy to see you too Millie. Or anything, for that matter."  
  
"Yes, but you're more happy to see this soup right now," she giggled back.  
  
He followed her hands with his eyes as she placed the tray on his blanket-wrapped legs, and dragged over a stool to sit by his bedside. By the time she got there, he was already digging into the soup and bread on the tray like a starving man.  
  
Unable to get any more sleep, a disgruntled Kuroneko crawled out from under the covers and tried to nibble on some bread herself. Millie merely waited patiently for several minutes, knowing that he would have to come up for air at some point.  
  
"So," Vash paused to finally take a breath, brow furrowed, "um, I really don't know how to ask this big girl. . .but what am I doing in this room, and where are my clothes?"  
  
"Oh," she laughed, clapping her hands together, "funny you should ask that Mr. Vash! When you passed out at the kitchen table, both Meryl and me thought you were going to die! Okay, maybe Meryl didn't," she glanced around innocently, "anyway, she got help from the lady doctor down the street. The nice woman said she'd be here in a shotgun minute to tend to 'your' wounds, isn't that funny! Oh, and I remembered the nurses' training that I took with Meryl during a company holiday too, so I kinda helped! I'm still confused though, Meryl wouldn't help, she said she didn't remember anything from the sessions."   
  
Millie concentrated on this for a moment, looking unusually serious, almost as if there were something more then the situation at hand bugging her. Then, she seemed to remember herself and smiled again.  
  
"Anyway, we got you all bandaged up!"  
  
Watching her positively beam, he grinned back at her for a moment. But then understanding caught up with him and his eyes widened.  
  
"You didn't. . .um-"  
  
"Didn't what?" Her little-girl innocence returned, "Oh, no silly, we didn't peek or anything! Although," she leaned in close, "I liked the little heart and peace signs on your boxers, those were too cute!"  
  
The Stampede thought he was going to die. Either that or melt into a little Plant puddle right through the floor. He only managed to keep the completely humiliated blush off his cheeks because Meryl chose that moment to also step through the door, detracting his attention from the giggling Millie.   
  
The other woman gave them both a glance, her frown deepening. However, she did look in a better mood today then the last time they had started arguing, so the outlaw figured it was safe to continue acting conscious. Millie scooted her stool around and waved at her friend, delighted at the company.  
  
"Oh hi Meryl! Me and Mr. Vash here were just talking," she patted him on the shoulder as Vash tried not to choke on his soup. "But since you're here. . .I'll just be going now. I know that you two might have some things to catch up on. . .you know. Besides, it's mail day, don't wanna miss that truck!"  
  
For a moment, no one in the room moved as the tall girl regained her feet and made her way to the other side of the room while Vash went back to eating silently. When she reached Meryl's side, however, the older woman gave her a pleading glance.  
  
"Millieeee. . ." her partner whispered through gritted teeth, turning away from Vash. He didn't even notice, he was busy feeding the bread crust to Kuroneko. "Don't leave me here like this!"  
  
"Oh Meryl, you're funny. Just talk to him, I know how much you've been missing that!"  
  
Then, humming to herself, Millie skipped out the door.  
  
  
  
"Well," Meryl turned around after a moment's silence, still exasperated at a thousand different things, "so here we are again, huh?"  
  
The man looked up, a little confused  
  
"Where. . .huh?"  
  
Meryl threw up her hands, looking ready enough to rag on God himself. "Argh! Sometimes you are so hopeless I just wanna. . ."  
  
"Did I mention that I'm happy to see you too Meryl?"  
  
She put her hands back down, lips pursing.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Well, you seemed happy enough to see me, so I just thought I'd let you know that the feeling's mutual!"  
  
He gave her another of those smiles who's validity she immediately questioned. Why did he have to be so. . .so darn MALE sometimes!  
  
"You know," she sighed, taking the chair that Millie had left next to the bed, "you're not charming me, if that's what you think. You may have a girl lined up in every city on Gunsmoke, Vash the Stampede, but Meryl Stryfe is not-"  
  
"Not taking herself lightly enough, you mean? Gosh insurance girl, do you ever lighten up or what?"  
  
Meryl's eyes widened despite her attempt to keep her emotions out of this.   
  
"Hey, I don't need to do anymore lightening. . .wait, why am I arguing with you?" She rolled her eyes to the heavens, speaking to no one in general and getting an interesting look from Vash. It wasn't exactly a nice look either. Now that one she definitely noticed.  
  
"Oh, okay," she dropped her gaze back to his face, and he gave her one of those pained smiles again, the kind that made her inwardly wince.  
  
"I wish you wouldn't do that."  
  
"Oh. . .what?"  
  
"Smile, like that. It's not real."  
  
He stared at her, pupils narrowing to mere points of ebony. For a second she felt her breath catch, for it felt like he was staring into her very soul through her own hesitant gaze. After a long moment he nodded softly, and the faked smile disappeared, seeming to have never been.  
  
"Sure."  
  
Now that he was serious, and conscious, she recalled the reason for her visit this morning.  
  
Not that she wanted to talk to him right now, especially alone as they were, about anything serious. The way she was feeling at the moment, she didn't know if her heart could handle it. But he looked so puzzled by her uneasiness this morning that Meryl couldn't bear leaving him to wonder. It was obvious that Millie hadn't explained anything, a customary Millie tactic that normally kept her out of trouble. However, since they had both already jumped out of the frying pan quite a while ago, the fire didn't seem all that unexpected now. Vash had to know.  
  
But just how much did he have to know? And why was she even asking herself this question! It wasn't like she had any right to protect him! Did she?  
  
And of course, did it matter, she thought, watching his boyish face frown up at her, that he wasn't human?   
  
When he had told her, the shock had been a confirming one. No human could have survived what he had been through. At least not live and still remain standing afterwards.   
  
Yet his actual words to her before he had faced Knives had made it all so concrete that she wasn't sure what to think. He was a Plant…a Plant? He was over one hundred and thirty years old, and she was what, in her middle twenties? Vash had been wandering around since the founding of Gunsmoke. . .the things he must have seen. She almost wanted to ask him about it some time, but it seemed odd, since he physically looked little older then she did.  
  
But those scars tell another story, her subconscious answered back, don't they?  
  
Pushing all other thoughts away, she tried to concentrate on the task at hand. However, things kept intruding, little voices and emotions, like long-gone ghosts that not even time could chase away.  
  
"No, we need to talk." Meryl's concerned expression caused Vash to scrunch his brow. Meryl had only used that tone with him less than a dozen times during their "association", and every single time it had been nothing but trouble. Preparing himself for the worst wasn't likely to help this time, he could see it in her eyes.  
  
"About what Meryl? I mean, I've noticed that everything is unusually silent outside, which is odd. . ."  
  
He gave the window a glance and paused, unsure of what to say next, looking down at his hands instead.  
  
"Vash. . .oh why me?" She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, "Vash, everything is quiet out there because practically everyone in this town is gone."  
  
His relaxed sleepiness gave way to a look of confusion, then one of unguided anger as he tensed sharply.  
  
"WHAT? Owww-"  
  
"Careful, that shoulder hasn't completely healed!" She put out a hand, then drew it back when she realized what she was doing. "Everybody left because they were afraid for their lives, wait, long story, let me back up-"  
  
"Afraid of me?" He hunched his shoulders in preparation for the words he was sure would come.  
  
"No, the 'humanoid typhoon' is the least of their worries right now. I think they're more worried about that guy after your brother."  
  
"After my- Okay, start at the beginning again insurance girl, I'm even more confused."  
  
"Yes," Meryl took a deep breath, which didn't really help much because she was on a roll at this point. "A lot has happened in the last three days, and much of it you probably won't wanna hear, but anyway-"  
  
She cleared her throat and looked across the room, away from him, and she explained everything. There were several things she omitted, such as the death of the man in the bar, and the way that Caverral had threatened her and Millie. But she couldn't leave out the way in which he had promised to kill everyone in the saloon, otherwise she would have had no way to explain everyone's absence.  
  
"So," he stared down at his hands still, not really seeing them, "this man knows Knives. Though you have no idea why, right?"  
  
"Of course not, I'm as confused as you are."  
  
He sighed, then his eyes came back up. "How is Knives anyway?"  
  
Meryl glanced over from his bed to another one across the room, out of Vash's line of sight.  
  
"I. . .I'm not sure. We've been tending to his wounds, like the doctor told us, but his fever hasn't broken. One of the holes in his thigh became infected the day after you brought him back, and even with the penicillin shot he was given, he's burning up. I don't know what-"  
  
Vash pulled his legs up under the blanket, Kuroneko hopping off the bed in disgust and taking off with a ruffled meow. He turned, swinging his legs over the side, even as Meryl put out her arms to stop him.  
  
"No, you're still hurt. You might-"  
  
"I'll be careful with the shoulder," he gave her a little grin, "you just watch I don't fall on you, okay."  
  
"Sure," she tried to hide her embarrassed smile. Since when did she go getting all protective over him? He was a grown man, after all!  
  
Vash put his feet down onto the boards at the side of the bed, then rose up, stretching slightly. He steadied himself, then shuffled across the room, the metal plate on the bottom of one of his feet clopping against the wood beneath. Meryl peered at his bare calves where the hem of the robe just reached, surprised that his legs were just as scarred as his chest. It still gruesomely amazed her that anyone could have possibly suffered the amount of pain those scars illustrated, yet decided to keep on living regardless.   
  
Just how insane was this man?  
  
Attention focused, Vash moved to Knives' bedside, and looked down. The other man was completely hidden under his own quilt, though he could tell that his twin was still breathing anyway. He moved the blanket aside a bit, and peered down at his brother. Knives was curled into a tight ball under the quilt, his whole body trembling, fever-blush livid across his cheeks. The gray robe he also wore was soaked through with sweat, and Vash managed a perverse smile at what Knives would have thought at the prospect of having two human females dress him in it.  
  
Meryl came over to his side, looking a little frightened but trying to hide it.  
  
"He hasn't really said anything to us at all," she added. "Is he anything like you? Even a little?"  
  
"Deep down," Vash reached out and brushed a hand across his twin's forehead, "I hope he still is."  
  
"Um…are Millie and I doing anything wrong for him. . .I mean," she looked away, "since you two aren't human, um. . .I wasn't sure if we might have been treating his wounds wrong, or not giving him something that would help-"  
  
"I'm not sure. . .I don't really know that much about us, me and Knives, that is. Or at least I don't know enough to really help him out right now, even though I know he needs me. I guess all I can do is hope, even if it's not enough."  
  
At that moment, she really wanted to comfort him. Truly and honestly she did. Everything in her heart was telling her to reach out a hand and wrap it around his arm. . .but she couldn't. That little voice in her head, and the ghosts that swarmed around from days long since passed, grounded her once more.  
  
Don't get involved, Meryl Strife, you know what that leads to. Don't be such an idiot again. Or do you want to hurt?  
  
Vash knelt down next to his brother, and Meryl would hear him whisper softly to Knives, a worried smile on his lips. After what seemed like an eternity to her, he looked back up again.   
  
"So, you say this 'Demon' guy will be back in seven days?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Clearly in agony over such a forced decision, he stood back up, covering his twin in the quilt very carefully once more.   
  
"But there's no way that Knives can face him! And even if he was well enough I wouldn't let him! He still has so much to understand, and no mortal would stand a chance against what my brother could, and would, do."  
  
"I don't know what can possibly help. . .really. If I could help you, in the slightest way, I-"  
  
"No. I know that Millie would say the same thing, and I don't want you girls getting hurt. I guess. . .I guess I'll need to think about this. I-"  
  
Down the hall, the creak of another door opening made them both look up. Vash smiled in relief, his attention temporarily diverted.  
  
"Oh, there's Millie again!"  
  
Meryl smiled as well, the tension easing from her face.  
  
"Hey ma'am, mail time!" Millie called down the hall. "Come look at all the stuff we got!   
  
Meryl turned away from Vash for a second, nervous and knowing that this was the perfect chance to get away. He noticed, and it confused him all the more. Was this some kind of women thing that he just couldn't understand?  
  
"You should go ahead," Vash turned his smile to her, "I'll be fine here, obviously. Besides, I gotta think about how to save Knives."  
  
"Oh. . .um. Thank you Vash. And please," she gave him a look that showed more confusion then he felt, surprising him as she moved toward the door "don't do anything crazy…okay."  
  
"Sure. . .um, Meryl. I'll be careful, you know that!"  
  
"No," she whispered as she turned to the hallway, "actually, I don't."  
  
  
  
"Hey there ma'am! We got something from Bernardelli today."   
  
Millie shook the sand off a worn white envelope and handed it over to her senior partner. The other woman took it suspiciously, realizing that most of the recent letters from that place had been causing her more trouble then the actual 'humanoid typhoon', and this was just on a good day! Why oh why had she chosen risk prevention as her specialty?  
  
"Oh good," she sighed, "hope it's a paycheck. I don't know about you Millie, but I'm completely broke."  
  
"Yep, same here Meryl, I don't have a double dollar to my name!" The other girl continued to riffle through some printed add for a dress shop, and then her eyes lit up when she saw what was nestled behind it. "Yippee! I got a letter from my big big brother. . .and, oh, you got a letter too ma'am."  
  
"Huh?" Meryl watched in disbelief as the taller woman handed her another slightly dusty envelope. Originally, the envelope paper had held a faint pinkish hue, but after what could have been weeks of traveling in a mail truck it had taken on a grayish desert tinge, grimy and gritty feeling to the touch.  
  
Because of the color, she didn't have to turn it over to look at the address. She knew who this was from, and her fingertips shook as she ran a long thumbnail through the lip of the envelope, accidentally slitting the fleshy tip of her finger. Cursing as she stuck the fingertip in her mouth, Meryl opened the paper within.  
  
For a second, her eyes glanced over the contents, face unreadable as her lips moved silently. Beside her, Millie watched, rather puzzled and hunting for some sign of what her partner was feeling on the other woman's blank face. After finishing the last line, however, Meryl looked concerned. She squinted for a moment, then seemed to re-read something before looking back up.  
  
The letter dropped from her fingers and fluttered against a table leg like a wounded butterfly.  
  
"Oh, Meryl! You look so sad. . .what's wrong?" The younger woman reached out a comforting hand, but the other only brushed her away, looking around for a place to sit.  
  
"Millie, um. . .that letter was from my mom. You remember her, right?"  
  
"Why of course Meryl, I met her at the company picnic two years ago, with your dad too."  
  
"Well, somehow my parents found out where we are staying for awhile, and according to the letter," she slumped into a chair, "they should be arriving for a visit in seven days."  
  
Endnotes: Okay, I'll try and hurry up and finish reviewing for my reviewers, as promised! I've just been a little late because one of my professors is leaving for Egypt next week(I wanna go!), so he moved up our sorta-semi-midterm test to next week, and I've been studying quite hard. So, if I haven't reviewed something of yours in a couple of days, and you notice, please let me know (beat me over the head, throw stuff at me, whatever)! My brain is completely gone at this point…ugh. Next chapter, next Friday. . .and I work faster with reviews, but then, you already know that, right? I just hope this chapter isn't as bad as I think it is. There's a slight lull, but only for a little while, and it's needed anyway. Lulls in action irritate me, but I hope that I'm very wrong about them bothering all of you! I had a hard time writing this chapter because I kept going back and rewording everything, then getting put out, and doing it again (which is why I never look at my chapters after I post, you would never hear the end of it if I did). By the way, I give ten points to anyone that can figure out where the title of this story came from. Okay, two hints: it's a song….and the band that produced it is punk. Which band is that? 


	4. Back In The Saddle

*Sorry this is so late! My computer got a virus (lucky I had all my documents backed up), and I had to wait for it to get repaired...so see, I do have a good excuse...and my virus protection sucks, by the way... It won't be with me long, count on it.*  
  
Authors' quick note: This is chapter 4! I've reached the half-way point! *throws confetti at readers*. There are supposed to be eight chapters in Hold On, before I start the second part (at least that's how I've planned it), just in case you wondered. Oh, and this chapter is the longest one, by the way. After this they go back to being normal length. I promise no more loooong chapters (I hope it isn't too long, let me know. I just didn't know what to delete).  
  
Thank You's: Thank you to all of my great readers who came back for the last chapter, and the newest ones as well! Thanks to Magnet-Rose, Jami, and Rosebud, Neptune Butterfly and my newest reviewer, dark-pyro-angel. I think I've given *almost* everyone (I'm not done reading some people's chapters yet) at least one review by now, and I'm going to continue reviewing. There were a couple of people that didn't sign their reviews and I couldn't find you when I did an author's search, so if you would like a review from me, please let me know who to look for (email me or something), thanks! (And thank you to all those readers that I know are reading this and won't be writing a review for me either! *cries*)  
  
By the way…Jami gets the cookie! (And ten points ^-^) She guessed the band correctly, it's Good Charlotte! The song "Hold On" is from their newer (I think newest, not sure…) album, The Young and the Hopeless (another thing I cannot claim ownership to, so no suing). Don't know where the Trigun connection came from though…  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun, if you haven't figured this out yet, you're dumber then I thought, and I have a bridge to sell you.  
  
Chapter IV: Back in the Saddle  
  
"Man, what am I going to do…."  
  
Vash continued to stare out the bedroom window and into the street, watching tendrils of fog twist between buildings and over the ocean of endless sand. It was around five in the morning, and the house around him was utterly silent. For a little while, at least, he knew that he would have some solitude to think, a thing that he desperately needed to do.  
  
Another two days had passed, and still Vash had no answers. Every idea he ran through always ended in someone being hurt…or worse, conditions that he just wouldn't allow. Yet there had to be a solution, he was sure of it. After over a hundred years of life, he had learned that there was a solution to practically everything if you just figured it out fast enough.  
  
Squinting out into the fog, as if the answers were written somewhere just beyond his sight, Vash put an elbow on one of his knees. Maybe he just wasn't thinking right. After all, he was still healing, both physically and emotionally, from his fight with Knives. It seemed only rational to admit to himself that he wasn't completely focused on the present problem, right?  
  
But he also knew when he was stuck in a rut, and this time it was far more trouble then he had ever imagined it could possibly be.  
  
Millie and Meryl couldn't help either. He had talked to them, and they were willing to make suggestions, but all of those ended in someone's death, as far as he could see it. Meryl had even suggested giving Knives over to Caverral, an option that he was definitely against in more ways then one.  
  
Unfortunately, Vash also knew that the tactics he had tried in the past with other gunman wouldn't work. This man knew what Knives was capable of…and yet he was still hunting for him, meaning that he wasn't afraid of facing an immortal able to kill him with a mere glance, a fact that terrified Vash.  
  
Down the hall, he could hear footsteps as the girls got up and moved into the kitchen. Meryl seemed to be awake, but Millie yawned and complained that her stomach hurt. She had been complaining about that a lot lately, and he was more then a little concerned that she was coming down with something.  
  
The girls' soft conversation continued, accompanied by the scrape of a fork against a pan and the clunk of stonewear plates sliding over the kitchen table. Vash knew that Meryl was starting breakfast, an act that was gradually becoming familiar to him as the month progressed. And as always, Millie was setting the table and helping her out. Millie didn't help too much with the actual cooking portion of the morning, however. She wasn't a morning person and Meryl had politely informed her that she shouldn't try lighting her hair on fire anymore then was necessary by accidentally falling asleep over one of the hot pans.  
  
After breakfast was finished, both girls had their own individual routines to follow. Millie would go off to do survey work with her construction crew, and Meryl would hang around the house for a while until around three in the afternoon, when she had to go to one of the local saloons and "waitress", as she so adamantly stated. Just for kicks Vash had tried to call her an actual "barmaid" once. Yes, he had gotten a lot of kicks out of that one…some of the bruises still hadn't dissapeared.  
  
But, despite everyone's somewhat-joking manner, he got the feeling that certain things weren't as peaceful as he thought they were. Meryl's behavior itself had been odd enough already. Instead of sticking around in the mornings, or asking him if he would like to go shopping, the girl had been working longer shifts and trying her best to just avoid him.   
  
Now, he knew that they weren't exactly living the high life, and half the time they were broke. But that was still no reason for her to work from suns up to suns down. Lately, ever since he had become more active around the house, she had been taking even more hours in the mornings. And whereas Millie was more then willing to joke around with him, Meryl always complained that she had something better to do…like take a shower.  
  
Humans just puzzled him, no matter how hard he tried to understand and be like them. Of course, human men he could relate to, being male seemed to be one of those universal constants. But human females…they were a whole other jungle!  
  
Across the room, Knives suddenly turned over in bed, sighing. He hadn't moved all morning, and Vash had seriously dreaded the prospect of going over and finding that his brother had died. That was another part of the reason why he hadn't moved from his vigil by the window…the part that he had tried not to think about.  
  
Now that he was sure Knives was still with him, and frustrated that he wasn't going to get any answers this morning, Vash rose up out of his chair and moved to the side of his brother's bed. Knives heard his muffled footsteps, and the other Plant opened pain-laced eyes, eyes which took in his twin's face as his lips thinned and he started to whisper.  
  
"Vash," he rasped, looking surprisingly worried, "my…my left leg hurts…it burns…"  
  
Knives' left leg was still badly infected, one of the reasons why his fever hadn't completely abated, and Vash wondered if he was going to be able to keep the limb at this point. The lady doctor had come back to check on them a day ago, and at that point she had suggested amputation to keep him alive. But she, of course, didn't know that Knives' body had healing abilities far better then those of a human, a factor that gave him a high chance of surviving such an infection. Because of this, Vash had refused, Knives being unconscious at the time.   
  
But even with the ability to heal rapidly, Vash still cursed himself for Knives' pain. It was his poor shot that had damaged the nerves in that leg, to such an extent that, even if they did heal, his twin would probably have to live with a limp. A prospect that he knew Knives wouldn't exactly cherish.  
  
Vash realized that his brother wasn't just complaining about the pain either. Knives, to Vash's knowledge, never complained. But he did have a low tolerance for pain. He hated it with a passion, and it really amazed Vash that, time and again, he still inflicted so much of it on others.   
  
When they had been living on the SEEDS ship, until Steve had gotten ahold of them, pain had primarily been an unknown force, something both boys had read about but never directly experienced. In fact, Vash could remember the first time that either of them had been hurt, and that had, oddly enough, been Knives.  
  
They had been in the Kitchen area that led off into the lounge, helping Rem make something that she called vegetable soup. At the moment, their self-proclaimed mother was out of sight, putting a pot of water on the ship's stove unit, while Vash joked with Knives about cutting carrots into odd shapes.  
  
The actual accident had happened so fast that neither of them had realized it at first. Vash had giggled, holding his cutting blade over the tip of a carrot, and Knives had leaned in to watch, placing his hands up on the counter.  
  
Pushing the blade down, Vash had felt it slide in his grip and tried to compensate, but couldn't move fast enough. The tip caught Knives in the palm as he'd tried to pull away from Vash, realizing what was about to happen. Instead, he didn't move quite fast enough, and winced at the numbing feeling of icy cold that flooded his veins. Through their empathic link, stronger at that time then it was now, Vash had felt the shivery sensation as well, and he'd shuddered, looking up at the redness dripping down his twin's arm.  
  
The other boy took a second to look down at his bloody palm, trembling, and then his eyes had widened, dark pupils filling his azure irises. After that he had looked back up at Vash, not knowing what to say or do.  
  
Rem had come in at that moment, and Vash was glad that she didn't scream or anything. She did get pretty worried, and comforted the little boy until he pushed her away. And despite all the worry, the only things Knives actually needed was antiseptic and a bandage. Rem had also called Mary, who doubled as the ship's doctor, and the woman had given the boy a couple stitches. These Knives had hidden from everybody, even his brother, and the twins hadn't talked for a while.  
  
Vash often wondered if that was where it had truly started afterall, even before Knives had consciously expressed his views, the divide had started to open with something as simple as pain.  
  
Pushing the memory away, he realized that his brother was no longer watching him anymore. The other man's eyes were closed, his breathing even and soft, indicating that he was no longer conscious.  
  
Something else drew Vash's attention away from the memory, and he looked over at the door. Steam trickled down the hallway, and he sniffed at it, hesitant to assess the kitchen's morning damage.   
  
Meryl was cooking eggs today…and what smelled like thomas sausage…again. Thomas wasn't all that bad, if you put lots of ketchup on it and pretended it was something like beef. Still, the big mutant chickens pretty much tasted the way that they looked. Blatantly nasty.  
  
Moving away from his brother, Vash glanced out the window again, then lifted the bottom glass panel and peered out into the street, coughing. The fog still hadn't lifted, and the light of the twin suns was a blurry haze on the horizon, both shafts of light watching him like the glowing eyes of something feral and angry.  
  
He glanced back over his shoulder once, knowing that Meryl would come looking for him soon, and feeling just a little bit closed in by the monotony his life was becoming. All these years, and all these miles, and now finally he was stuck in one place.  
  
And for the oddest reason, it was getting on his nerves.  
  
Not that he hated it here, but it just didn't feel right. Funny how something as simple as never having a real home could change someone's desires when they actually got the chance to try one.  
  
Besides, he needed a walk anyway. Thinking was easier when he let his feet do something, and now was as good a time as any to get away. Besides, the girls would be just fine without him and Knives wasn't going anywhere new.  
  
Feeling a small sense of relief for the first time in a while, the Stampede swung himself out the window, tripped over the sill, and trotted off into the fog.   
  
He didn't look back once.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
As for what he might have planned for the actual beginning, middle, or end of his walk, Vash still hadn't made up his mind.   
  
At first he thought that maybe he should go get a drink. It had been a while since the last one…perhaps a little too long, and his nerves needed something to calm them so that he could concentrate. Though, after the first glass he didn't tend to concentrate on much of anything but the second glass, and he seriously doubted that he would even be able to find his way home after that, let alone a solution to his problem.   
  
Besides, Meryl seemed genuinely worried about the man that was going to come back for Knives. When she had talked to him a couple days ago, her eyes had held an honest fear, not hedged with doubt or uncertainty. The woman had been genuinely scared, a raw emotion that she so rarely showed him that he had come to trust it. Alcohol wasn't about to solve anything at this point…and besides, the day had just started. Though, come to think of it, he had started out a great many days pretty smashed…nah, forget it.  
  
So now was not the time to get drunk…then perhaps it was time for….yes, maybe it was-  
  
  
  
***  
  
"Thanks miss, these look great!"  
  
Vash curled both of his arms protectively around the small paper sack, grinning. The older woman minding the fried food stand at her doorstep gave him a small smile and a random nod, as she went back to stirring some French fries and doling out breakfast to a morning crowd.  
  
Still grinning, Vash headed off down the street, pulling a honey-glazed doughnut out of the bag in his arms. He stuffed it whole into his mouth and sighed, finally feeling normal again. His brother may have been deathly ill, the insurance girls may have continued their harping, but at least there were still doughnuts to look forward to!  
  
In spite of everything, feeling that all was still right with the world, he gulped down another doughnut and sauntered across the street, humming randomly. A little black cat dashed out from under the nearest porch and meowed at him pleadingly until he looked down at her.  
  
"Um…do kitties like doughnuts? I don't know…I'm still a little upset at you for scratching me."  
  
He frowned at her and the cat yawned, stretching as if to say 'I certainly don't remember it'.  
  
"Meowwww!" She pleaded again, then blinked.  
  
Kuroneko's tail tip started to move faster, and her whiskers twitched before she tilted her head around and ran off, suddenly oblivious to the conversation. Vash took a step toward her, meaning to call her back, and then froze in place.  
  
A sudden chill along his back caused his head to jerk up in surprise. He looked down at his boots, and found himself in the shade of a cross. For a second, confused, he stared at it, then craned his neck back and looked up. To his left stood the town steeple, whitewashed walls flaking in the dry air. At the highest point on its roof, the lone cross, silhouetted by the rising haze of the twin suns, touched him with its shadow through the fog.  
  
For a long moment, he simply didn't move. Then, looking put upon, he pulled another doughnut out of the bag and bit into it as he stared up at the tower, thoughts drifting.  
  
Vash had never been much of a religious man, though he had thought about trying at one point, simply to see what it was all about. But being run out of town every other day didn't really help one explore a group religion very well, so he had given it up for the time being.   
  
However, he did believe that his ability to get out of almost every situation in nearly one piece was a little more then luck. For the most part though, he blamed that one on his amazing, and somewhat annoying, ability to think his way out of almost everything and pure dumb luck.  
  
As for whether or not there was some higher power out there governing everything that he did? Well, if there was, quite a while ago he would have loved to have a pretty heated discussion with that individual. It was about time that something went right.  
  
He thought briefly about actually going into the chapel and trying to ask that higher power to help him sort all of this out. But he felt kinda funny about trying that, in part because he'd never actually done it before.   
  
Sure, Vash prayed, every gunman did at some point. But mostly his prayers were to Rem's spirit, in the hopes that she would help him make the choice she would have made, a good choice that she would have been proud of. Now, however, he knew that she was depending on him to make his own choices. As a result he felt lost, not physically lost, but more or less like he was aimless inside, something he couldn't put a finger on.  
  
But he still couldn't go inside now, even if part of him had wanted to. Ever since Nick had spent his last breath before an altar, Vash felt pain just looking at a cross alone. A church was meant to be a place of peace for everyone who entered, and now that he thought about it, he didn't think that he would ever truly feel at peace anywhere.   
  
Besides, he mused, glancing down at himself, I'm not even dressed right.  
  
He looked down at his long-sleeved, white cotton shirt and old jeans, sighed, and finished his doughnut.  
  
"Meow?"  
  
Kuroneko peered around the cross on the roof like a timid little ghost, a fishtail sticking out of her muzzle. Vash watched as she chomped on it, then flicked her tail tip at him and looked once more at the paper bag with interest. He smiled back up at her.  
  
"So that's where you went, huh? Pretty high for such a little kitty, don't you think? How about you come down and I'll give you a doughnut."  
  
Kuroneko disappeared from sight, then returned a moment later at ground level, eyes still wide and staring.  
  
"Meow?" She mentioned expectantly.  
  
Vash looked into the bag, then pulled out another doughnut.  
  
"Well, I've only got one left…but you can have it."  
  
He tossed it onto the sand and she gobbled it up, licking crumbs off her whiskers and hunting for missed pieces by her paws. When she was satisfied there was nothing left, she turned her attention back to him.  
  
"Meeeowwww?"  
  
"Sorry, that's it!" He put the bag down and started to walk away from her.  
  
The black cat watched his retreating back for a moment, then hopped into the empty paper bag. The bag tipped over, but the purring Kuroneko inside didn't notice, she was too busy licking sugar off the paper.  
  
  
  
***  
  
Vash stood at the edge of town, unable to see even a few feet beyond the fog, and not really caring at the moment either, because he had just figured out how to save his brother once again.  
  
Satisfied that the idea was probably the only one that would work, he looked up at the gauze-wrapped glare of the suns to get an idea of east, then headed off. Sand whispered over his boots, and the fog twisted about his ankles and arms, wraithlike, as he walked carefully over the open desert, trying not to think about how alone he really was.  
  
Finally, after traveling for what he judged to be about an hour, Vash stopped at the edge of a depression in the earth. The sand had rounded off the edges already, but the crater still looked burnt in some places, and the huge roots of demolished trees poked up forlornly through the mist. He gave it all a passing glance, then slipped down into the pit and started to search.  
  
He found the red coat first, the cotton fabric damp with dew and shook it out. Sand grains scattered, rustling and skittering away as he draped the fabric over one arm and started hunting once more.  
  
The twin revolvers came next. His own was still in plain sight, glistening faintly and cool to the touch. He picked it up and drew back the hammer, wincing at the crunch of sand particles within, then he slid the hammer back and opened the barrel, looking disgusted. Sand had gotten into the chambers as well, and now it was going to need a thorough cleaning before it ever fired another shot.  
  
The ebony Colt was a little harder to find. It had been thrown clear of their fight when Vash had shot Knives in the arm, and by now the revolver was neatly covered by the desert. Fortunately, being hidden did not mean that Vash had lost it. Over time he had learned that being near the guns made the tips of his fingers tingle as if they had fallen asleep, a sensation that went away when he brought the Colt into his hand. Such a strange detail didn't interfere with his aim, but it did prevent him from losing his own gun, one aspect of his life that he needed help with anyway, as he was always misplacing it.  
  
The return of the black Colt into his hand was quick, and he pocketed both of them in the coat, glancing around through the mist and wondering what was holding him back from leaving at this point.   
  
Something was missing…yes, something was definitely not right. He furrowed his brow, eyeing the desert beneath his feet with confusion and scuffing his boots in the sand. One of his boot toes hit something hard, and after he was done cursing in several different languages, he knelt down to see it.  
  
Beneath his feet, a tiny patch of steel glittered up at him. A ghost of a smile crossed Vash's eyes as he recognized what he had just bumped into. Moving the coat farther up his arm so that it wouldn't fall off, he knelt down by the wayward Cross Punisher, brushing sand and dew off the arms, exposing the gleaming surface to the suns once more. The weapon still looked to be in very good shape. All of it's various hatches were closed, and no sand had gotten inside. He admired it for a moment, hands clenching the metal arms as he whispered to it.   
  
"Thanks for saving me there, old friend."  
  
Shaking more sand off, Vash rose back to his feet, hoisting the weapon up from the ground so that it stood on its longest end. He felt strange though, taking it with him when it had belonged to Nicholas for who knows how long. Millie had told him that he should have it, and use it. But that just didn't seem right. A man's gun was a very personal piece of who he was, and Vash didn't know if he was ready or not to accept a part of Wolfwood that he had rejected for so long in himself.   
  
An oddly, and pleasantly, warm wind brushed his left side, and Vash turned, suddenly alert.  
  
In front of him, through the fog, shoes crunched against sand. It was such a subtle sound, and muffled in the damp air, that very few would have heard it. But Vash did, and he looked up, eyes half-veiled and his entire body taunt .  
  
A hand swept out at the fog, and the familiar smell of tobacco smoke tickled his nose, bringing back memories that both confused and excited him. Vash sneezed, and then his jaw dropped as he looked up at the person currently standing before him.  
  
"Hey Tongari. Have you gotten so high and mighty you can't thank a guy personally or what?"  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
"Well, Vash is gone again….not like that's anything new…"  
  
Meryl came back down the hall out of his room, shaking her head, and Millie looked up from her plate, wondering what the older woman was so worried about anyway.  
  
"Oh, he probably just went for a walk ma'am. He's got a lot on his mind after all," she turned over her toast and put some strawberry jam on it, "you know he wouldn't just leave us. Besides, his brother's still here. Don't worry so much Meryl, he's not going to forget about you."  
  
The other woman tried to hide her blush as she moved to the stove and took a sausage out of the pan, pushing it onto her plate.  
  
"I'm not concerned about that Millie, I just didn't want him running off and causing another disaster again. After all, even though we are staying here for a while until things settle down, he's still our responsibility. That certainly hasn't changed."  
  
"That reminds me ma'am…where are we going after Mr. Vash's brother gets better? You didn't mention anything to me after you talked to him…and I was a little curious. Besides, my big big brother asked in his letter…and I didn't know what to tell him."  
  
Meryl sat down on the other side of the table, looking down at her plate for a moment.  
  
"Um…I really don't know, I guess. I hadn't really thought about it. My parents are coming to visit afterall…and I just kinda-"  
  
"Oh, that'll turn out okay," Millie assured her, smiling. "They do love you Meryl, I can tell. And if things get really bad, you know I'll always be there to help you talk about it!"  
  
Meryl almost laughed, but not because she was trying to be mean. The other girl was just always so honest and dedicated when it came to certain matters of the heart that it was simply unbelievable. Sometimes Meryl even wished she could, just once, borrow Millie's ability to speak her mind. Because, like it or not, she had plenty to say.   
  
But of course, once again, she merely avoided the subject completely.  
  
"I suppose that we should wait until we can talk to Vash about the whole thing. After all, we go where he goes, like it or not."   
  
"Yeah, I suppose so," Millie sighed and took another two pieces of toast, surprising her friend with her appetite this morning. "Well, I'm not going to complain about it, because my big sister always told me that complaining doesn't solve your problems…but do you think that maybe Mr. Vash might follow us for once? I would like to go get a new outfit from a store I heard about in LR town. In fact, we haven't been clothes shopping in so long Meryl…wouldn't you like to have something new too?"  
  
Meryl sighed, eyes rolling up in her head. "A new life maybe…no…this one isn't so bad…it's just that good for nothing-"  
  
"Oh Meryl, you're funny," Millie giggled, then stopped suddenly and put her toast back down. She didn't look like she felt very well for a moment, and now that Meryl had noticed a second time this week, the other woman felt that it was high time she should ask. In fact, it was very strange that Millie hadn't spoken to her about it already, since they normally told each other practically everything.  
  
"You don't look like you feel well Millie."  
  
"Um…well, uh, Meryl…." The younger woman looked everywhere but into her friend's face.  
  
"Don't you think you should maybe see a doctor." Meryl stared into her eyes, suddenly concerned, and Millie found that she could look nowhere else.  
  
"Uh…I already did. She said I was just fine."  
  
"Really?" Meryl only seemed more confused. "You sure you're okay? You look a little pale."  
  
Millie stared at the other woman for a long moment, and then she stood up, resting a fist on the table, trying to find the courage that she knew would be needed.  
  
"No Meryl, I'm not okay….I….I need to tell you something."  
  
***  
  
"Um…Wolfwood?"  
  
The other man glanced at him as Vash gained his feet, dusting off his knees like it was the most usual thing in the world to suddenly see a dead man.  
  
Wolfwood grinned, as shameless as ever, and spread out his arms. "Hey, in the flesh…er, maybe not. Okay…okay, so I'm dead. But at least I'm good at being dead. You however, need to work at being Vash."  
  
The gunman wrinkled his nose at the priest, voice rising.  
  
"Look who's talking! If you're so good at being dead, how come you're here, huh?"  
  
Nick looked down at himself for a moment, then gave Vash a stare that could have melted lead.  
  
"Would you believe it if I said I wanted to look for rust spots on my Angelina II?"  
  
"That thing's one giant rust spot, you wouldn't have to look that hard."   
  
"I resent that, I was gonna give you that rust spot you damn Ton-"  
  
"You were gonna give me your motorcycle?" Vash started to tease, "But what am I supposed to do with it? It doesn't even run anymore!"  
  
"Well, not killing yourself with it would be a noble first step."  
  
They stared at each other for a long moment, until Wolfwood grin returned, and he started to laugh, the stub of his cigarette falling onto the sand. The other man merely stared at him, eyes widening before he relaxed his guard, convinced that he wasn't imagining this.  
  
"Yep…" Vash finally smiled, "That's the Nicholas D. Wolfwood I know! Um…it's good to see ya Nick….eh, even if you are a little…corporally challenged." He stepped toward the other man, pushing the Cross Punisher onto its side in the sand.   
  
"Good you see you too Mr. Vash the Stampede. Or should I say that I'm more glad that it's the other way around? I wasn't even sure you could see me, most people around here can't. But then, I figured that there was something about you that might help me out, seeing as you appear to be no mere mortal. You aren't are you?"  
  
Vash frowned, suddenly realizing again that this was something else that separated him from the human race.   
  
"Don't tell me you came all the way back from the grave to debate superpowers with me."  
  
"Hardly. I figured we could lighten the mood a little before I have to grind your face in the sand again."  
  
The outlaw stared at him for a second, as if trying to determine whether or not he was speaking literally. Finally, Nick gave him a lopsided smile, and Vash shook his head, looking at the ground and the weapon resting at his side as he spoke.  
  
"Ha ha Wolfwood, your sense of humor is MUCH improved, really. But can I take a rain check, I have work to do." He bent down again and finished dusting off the Cross Punisher  
  
"And you're still so incredibly patient too," Nick jabbed, "another super-ability."  
  
"Yeah, rates right up their with laser vision, my friend."  
  
Wolfwood watched the man before him lift the heavy cross, his eyes becoming thoughtful as he spoke.  
  
"Vash…eh…is something bothering you?"  
  
"No, no problems at all," the gunman laughed bitterly, "it's just that I have a man out to kill me, or my brother, but it might as well be me. The insurance girls are acting stranger then normal, in fact, I think Millie might be sick. Meryl seems like she wants to tell me something…but then she doesn't. My brother might die this time, because of me, and I might have to kill again. I don't want to! I don't understand any of it and I don't know why the fates can't just leave me alone, ya know?"  
  
In less then ten seconds, Nicholas watched the other man go from intensely angry to depressingly sad. It made him wonder for a moment if his friend wasn't as 'in control' as he tried to seem on the surface. Vash talked about love and peace…but in his heart, Nick knew, he was probably at war with his very soul. In fact, the priest realized, half the time he had no idea exactly how Vash felt about anything. Or at least it had seemed that way when he hadn't been such a dead man. But he could take a good guess.  
  
Inside, Vash probably felt the same way he did.  
  
"Yeah Vash, I know. Lady fate seemed to like me a little too much as well. But I also know that you'd rather not talk about it, because you've probably already got a plan of escape figured out, and not a single sandstorm on this God-forsaken rock is going to change your mind."  
  
"Hey," Vash pulled out of his own moping enough to go over Nick's words in his head. "I thought that a priest wasn't supposed to take the Lord's name in vain like that?!"  
  
"Hey Tongari, since when have I followed any type of-"   
  
"Meow!"  
  
Both men turned around to see a little black furball race over the nearest dune and run straight into Vash's boots. The furball toppled over, shook itself, then looked up at them both pleadingly. Nick eyed the new addition, then sighed.  
  
"You fed her, didn't you Vash?"  
  
"Aww, come on Nick! What about loving all of God's creatures? I thought you said something about that at some point."  
  
"That may be true…but loving them and feeding a cat are two different things."  
  
Kuroneko eyed both men, then trotted over and rubbed up against Nick's leg, purring. He glanced down at her, suddenly uneasy.  
  
"Look Wolfwood, she likes you."  
  
"Yeah, but she's a mangy little fuzzball, isn't she?"  
  
The cat stopped purring and looked up at him for a second. He could swear that she was smiling. Then, she leaned sideways and bit him in the leg before racing back over a dune toward the town.  
  
  
  
Once he had finished hopping around, and yelling at Vash for laughing at him, Nicholas bent to examine the Cross Punisher for himself.  
  
"You can stop laughing now, you idiot! Well, well, she fared okay."  
  
"She who?" Vash had dropped the weapon when he had started giggling, and now he seemed to remember it. His expression turned serious, but the smile didn't leave his eyes.  
  
"My gun! Do you see anyone else out here worth mentioning?"  
  
"I thought you were talking about the cat. It's a girl too, you know."  
  
The priest just rolled his eyes, realizing that Vash would try the patience of a saint. The outlaw just sighed, realizing, once more, that he had just done something wrong.  
  
"Um…Nicholas?" Vash tried again, looking worried. "I…I am very happy to know that, wherever you are, you're okay. I didn't mean to make you mad…it's just…that was so funny and-"  
  
"Don't sweat it, and don't get all emotional on me again. Besides, I've got a present for you."  
  
He gained his feet and held out the Cross Punisher. The weapon hung between them like a peace offering, and Vash stared at it, but didn't move to take it.  
  
"I would be honored if you kept this for me, Vash. There is already so much blood on it that I would want only you to have it. It needs to be a weapon of compassion now, not one of hatred. And I know that only a man like you could truly use it for what it was really meant to be."  
  
"But…Nick? I can't take it, it isn't mine and I can't ask for it either. I thought that you'd just come back to pick it up."  
  
"No," Nick smiled, "Take it already. A guy doesn't really need that kind of cross in heaven."  
  
"If you're sure…I…wait, I need to find the canvas to wrap it up. Don't leave on me."  
  
Vash disappeared into the mist for several minutes, and when he returned he was toting the fabric and a bunch of leather straps. Nick took them from him and wrapped it up without really concentrating, his hands remembering on their own.  
  
"So, you said that Millie isn't feeling well? I mean, I know she's probably missing me…um, has she told you anything lately Tongari that surprised you?"  
  
"Um," Vash turned this over in his mind for a moment. Millie amazed him on a regular basis. "Nope."  
  
"Uh, yeah, okay then Vash, I suppose-" his voice dropped off for a moment. "Listen, I really feel bad for the big girl…it's gonna be tough for her. Would you let her know that I'm watching out for her? Would you keep her safe for me?"  
  
"Of course," the other man nodded, "I know how much she meant to you….and still does. Which brings me back to the topic….why are you really here?"  
  
"I got a favor to ask, think you can handle it?"  
  
Vash reached up and scratched the back of his neck, but didn't look away. "Now I can't really deny a dead man, can I?"  
  
Nick laughed, having finished with the cross he put it back down for a moment and dusted off his hands.  
  
"You know that orphanage I was telling you about? The one near December? Well there was another priest that worked there with me, taught me a lot of stuff I should have actually paid attention to…. Anyway, he won't know what happened to me unless someone is able to tell him. I didn't make too many friends around here, traveled too much, and you guys were the only ones to see me go down. Would you do it for me?"  
  
He hated to give people bad news of any sort, but it was his friend's last request, and Vash wasn't going to deny it.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Great guy! Remind me to put in a good word for you with the man upstairs…"  
  
Nick watched Vash for a moment longer and pulled a cigarette packet from one of his pockets. He looked at it, then tossed it into the sand as if he had just reconsidered something. Vash bent to retrieve it, concerned, but the other man stopped him with a gentle hand on his back.  
  
"I'm trying to quit now."  
  
The gunman looked alarmed. "YOU? Why?"   
  
"Hey broom-head, times change. I change, you change. Thing is, I'm dead now, so it shouldn't matter…but it still does. Being dead doesn't solve all your problems."  
  
"Yah," Vash laughed, "it doesn't solve any of them, does it?"  
  
"Nope. Besides, Millie wanted me to…I can at least do one thing for her… Well-"  
  
There was a tense silence for several seconds as Wolfwood once more offered Vash the huge cross. The other man took it and strapped it to his back. Nick stood back, putting a hand on his chin and considering the spectacle before him.  
  
"Hey, you look great there Tongari, a real action hero."  
  
"Thanks," Vash felt a tear slip down his cheek, but he didn't brush it away. "You've helped me get a little more peace anyway…knowing that you really are okay."  
  
"Well…I'm glad to know that you've started to find some peace, old friend." Nick cleared his throat, holding back the tears that were threatening to cut his own words off. "Now, all you need is love I would guess."  
  
"Yes, I'm still a love hunter, aren't I? I don't think that'll ever change."  
  
"Perhaps not, perhaps not," the priest patted him on the back. Then, they both looked up as a little girl ran toward them from out of, the fog, smiling and holding a bright red ball. She giggled when she saw Nick, jumping around at his feet.  
  
"Aren't you gonna come finish that game with us Mr. Priest! The other team is winning! Come on!"  
  
He reached down and patted her on the head, and Vash smiled tenderly.  
  
"Well, I've got a game to get back to, and you've got a future to make. And neither of us can shirk those duties." He elbowed Vash playfully, then took the little girl's hand. "I'll see you around Vash…one day, we'll meet again, in Paradise. I'm sure of it."  
  
Vash turned away, wiping the tears that threatened to flood his vision, and when he turned back, he was once more all alone.  
  
The gunman sighed deeply, kneeling down on the sand and looking off into the haze, his eyes unfocused. Above him, the suns were starting to clear off the fog with their heat, warming his body but not his soul. After another moment, he shifted his vision toward Gunsmoke, each single inch of it covered in that infernal sand.  
  
Vash stared down at the ground for a long time, his lanky shadow stretching out over the dust, and the shadow of the cross at his back looming over him, a weight he would carry willingly. He rested his palms against the warmth radiating from the earth below, and closed his eyes.  
  
"Yes, I will never forget you Nick….and, and, I'll never forget any of you that cared. I always remember, and I always will, for all of you…because, in the end…I know I will be the only one left who can't ever forget."  
  
Then, without another word, he regained his feet and slipped back into reality. There were many miles yet to travel…and too many more, he realized, stood between him and the man who had just offered him Paradise. There was no going back, though right now, he wanted that one thing more then anything else in the world.  
  
  
  
  
  
Endnotes: Nicky was in this chapter! I enjoyed writing the dialogue between Vash and Wolfwood, since they're so funny when they get together...I hope I stayed in character though, it was hard to write for Nick. About the whole "Vash seeing spirits" thing. I figured that he probably does sometimes. He's lost so many people, and with the plant-powers that he has, whether he denies them or not, he's got to occasionally see things that the rest of us can't. Be those solutions to complicated problems, or the ghost of his dead best friend. I mean, why not? Anyway, next chapter either Wednesday or Thursday, so check back then. 


	5. Sins Of The Father

Sorry (again, I know) that this is late. I just had a lot of stuff to get finished up at the U, and my journalism class still takes up a lot of my time. But, it's spring break! So I'll try to update more then once this week to make up for it, promise.  
  
Thank You's: Thanks to returning readers Rosebud, Magnet Rose, Jami and Neptune Butterfly for not only coming back after my absence, but for the wonderful reviews that keep me writing even when I'm not so sure of myself. And thanks to my new reviewers Elantis Seasali, PurpleRoses and angelstryke, you don't know how much it encourages me to realize that other people want to read this thing. Also, I don't know who you are (I looked) but I saw that somebody put me on their favorites list. I couldn't find you, but thanks a bunch. You certainly surprised me!  
  
Author's note: None really for this chapter. Constructive praise and criticism are always welcome and very appreciated.  
  
Me: Ugh, I'm getting sick of this. . .  
  
Millie: What?  
  
Me: Disclaimers. . .  
  
Millie: Oh, like you own nothing to do with Trigun, so you can't be sued? *big smile*  
  
Me: Yep, like that  
  
Chapter V: Sins of the Father  
  
Meryl couldn't believe it.   
  
At first she thought that she had imagined it all, because the moment the sentence left Millie's lips, it seemed to lose its substantial veil of truth.   
  
Besides, Millie would never say something like that. . .sweet, innocent Millie, the young woman that told her partner about all her hopes and dreams with such honest longing. The girl that had always listened to her senior partner about never getting involved with a case, as work and pleasure were always separate matters. The same girl who once told Meryl that she wanted to really know and love a man before she gave herself to him, in case he was actually the wrong one.  
  
The reality of the situation hit Meryl like a ton of mud bricks. She should have noticed something was amiss all along, the signs were garishly obvious.   
  
But she really hadn't made the time, or even bothered to open her eyes when it really mattered. Because, well, there had been the Humanoid Typhoon, and then a real typhoon, and then she had started to feel even stranger about Vash. . .and to sum it up, she hadn't really talked at all with Millie lately.   
  
No, that was wrong. They had talked, but not about the girl stuff that was so important to their friendship but pointless in their partnership.  
  
It all fell into place in the same blinding instant. Why Meryl had been so busy with other things and not put two and two together still eluded her.   
  
Millie's late-afternoon absences whenever Wolfwood had sauntered into town and flashed his cocky grin her way. The morning of his death when Meryl had found her in Nick's room, waiting for him. Even during the several months of Vash's absence, when they had grown far closer, she hadn't seen it. She had been so worried about Vash, and fighting the sensation, that she hadn't even batted an eye their way.  
  
Now, she realized how much she had let Millie down, and that one realization hurt more then the fact that her friend had been keeping such a vital secret from her.  
  
"Meryl. . .um, did you hear me?"  
  
The older woman fought with what she wanted to say, and what she knew she should say. What actually came out was neither.  
  
"Millie. . .he was a priest."  
  
The other sighed, then sat back down. She truly looked sad, not upset or disappointed, just unfathomably alone behind her sea-colored eyes.  
  
"Ma'am, he was the right one. We disagreed about a lot of things, and we fought about some of them too. But he was a man. . .and he was the right one."  
  
Who could disagree with that?  
  
"Well," Meryl hunted for something, anything, worth saying. "I suppose things are going to have to change around here then. . .?"  
  
Millie looked up and smiled slightly. Meryl, always the practical one in every situation.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Did Wolfwood know?"  
  
Millie looked down at the bare table again, one of her fingers tracing a looping pattern on the varnish.  
  
"Yes. . .he was the first to know, besides me, of course. I haven't told Mr. Vash though. . .I was a little embarrassed. I don't know if Mr. Wolfwood ever told him either. They were such close friends, and he was so excited when I told him, he seemed like he wanted to tell the whole world. You really didn't know him, Meryl. He was such a kind man. . .and he told me that he'd always love me. . .and he loved kids so much that I couldn't help but be happy for us. I didn't plan it. . .honest. . .it just sorta happened."   
  
Meryl tried to quell her own anger, in part because she knew that Millie needed support, both in the situation at hand and with the loss of the only man she had ever chosen to really love. The wounds caused by his absence wouldn't heal for a long time. . .and now Meryl understood that maybe they never would completely.  
  
"Ma'am. . .I don't really know how to take care of a baby."  
  
The words startled Meryl back into the present. Millie almost looked like she was about to cry.  
  
"You don't know how to. . .oh."  
  
It made sense, she had been the youngest of ten children, and so she had never really had the chance to live with a baby in the house. Meryl had two younger sisters, and though Millie liked kids, she had to be a little lacking in certain areas of experience that only a younger sibling could generate, as Meryl had discovered.  
  
"No," Millie continued. "I mean, I've taken care of other people's children before. . .I've babysat. . .but this is so different. I don't know what I should do, Nick said that he would help me."  
  
Suddenly, Meryl realized that it was Millie who needed the comfort at the moment, not herself and the terrible way that she felt.  
  
"Millie?"   
  
She managed to keep her eyes on her partner's face, and Millie seemed to take strength from that. She sniffed, then straightened, eyes glassy.  
  
"Yes ma'am?"  
  
"You've always told me that it's not okay to just give up on something. That you have to be strong and work for it if you truly want it. . .and you want to keep this baby, right?"  
  
Millie almost seemed offended. All sadness vanished from her face and was instead replaced by surprise.  
  
"Of course Meryl. Mr. Wolfwood would want that, and I do too. I want more then anything to keep our baby, even if he isn't here to help me now. I know that I can still love our child. I just need a little help, that's all."  
  
Meryl leaned forward just a little, wrapping one of Millie's larger hands in her two delicate ones. The warm touch was reassuring to them both, and Meryl knew that Millie wouldn't keep something like this from her again.  
  
"Then it's settled. You know that I'll help you. . .because, well. . ."  
  
Millie smiled softly, scrunching Meryl's fingers very gently with her own.  
  
"You don't have to say a word, I know why you would help me. For the same reason I would help you of course!"  
  
"Yeah," the other woman sighed, relieved that the girl had been able to express what she just couldn't say. "And, Vash will help, I think. He's good with children for some reason that is still completely beyond me. Yes, he'll help because -?"  
  
"Because, silly," Millie giggled, finishing for her, "we're becoming a family, a family that all of us kinda need. . .in one way or another. And he is part of that family. Speaking of which-"  
  
* **  
  
Vash returned at noon to find Millie in the street and Meryl nowhere in sight. This confused him for a moment because usually it was the reverse, unless Millie was taking the day off. Such a situation rarely, if ever, actually happened. When it came to her construction crew, Millie seemed to have a much stronger work ethic then she did at being an insurance girl.  
  
Unsure of exactly what she was doing, he put on his best smile and peered at her sideways, though the slight tilt of his head didn't answer the question either. She still appeared to be exactly the same Millie, scuffing at the dirt and whispering to herself.  
  
Maybe conversation would help?  
  
"Hey, insurance girl, you sure look down today. Were you worried I was really gonna leave or something?"  
  
Millie glanced up at him, eyebrows scrunched.  
  
"No Mr. Vash. Should I be?"  
  
Out of nervous habit, and because someone was now staring at him, he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. How was he supposed to continue the conversation now?  
  
"Um, no? You just looked upset about something."  
  
"Oh, that's nothing!" She put on a smile that he knew was meant to reassure him, because he did the same thing so often himself. "Where did you go anyway?"  
  
He realized that she was changing the subject, but he didn't let the frustration behind his eyes show.  
  
"Oh, just out. I got back my coat," he held up one arm, the red fabric folded over it rustling gently. "And my gun. . .Knives' gun too. . .and the Punisher. . ."  
  
Millie suddenly got the feeling that there was something that he wasn't telling her, but desperately wanted to.  
  
"Um. . .Mr. Vash?"  
  
"Yes?" His voice was soft, and his eyes pained as he glanced away.  
  
"Can you answer something for me?"  
  
He sighed, then nodded. "Anything, sure big girl."  
  
"Did Mr. Wolfwood ever say anything about me? It's important. . .and, I would like to know, if you'll tell me."  
  
Vash gave her another hurting smile.  
  
"Oh, Nick didn't talk very much when we didn't joke, that's the kind of guy he was. But when he did talk, it was all about you. I guess when we weren't fighting, you were really the only thing on his mind. I think that he felt terrible about not being able to come back that day, because you did mean so much to him. But he couldn't change reality, even though he must have tried. In the end, he made a mistake. . .and I'm sure he regrets it now, because he told me that humans always do. He had no other choice, really. It was who he was." The man paused, considering something for a moment. "He even asked me to look after you because he couldn't. . .he said that it was important, I will, of course, but-"  
  
Millie didn't let him finish. She closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his shoulders, hugging him so tightly that he thought he was going to suffocate. "Really? Thank you Mr. Vash! You don't know how much that means to me. . .to know that he thought about me at the end. You sounded like him for a moment, you made me happy."   
  
From his experience, she had never been the type to cry about something that she couldn't change, but how else could he explain his damp shoulder and her muffled sobs? Surprised and not knowing what she wanted he blushed, finally grinning, and meaning it, for the first time in a while. "Well, I don't really know why he had to tell me that, or why you're crying. . .but. . .hey, free hugs!"  
  
The front door to the house slammed open, bouncing on its rusted hinges.  
  
"What are you two doing!"  
  
Standing on the porch, was, of course, Meryl. She looked about ready to kill, in part because she had been caught smiling for some odd reason and also because she seemed a bit angry about something that that neither of the two could figure out.   
  
Millie let go of Vash, who likewise took a deep breath to make up for his previous amount of no-breathing room.  
  
"Nothing ma'am that you need to worry about! Mr. Vash was just telling me about Mr. Wolfwood. . .that's all. Why are you so grumpy all of a sudden?"  
  
"Oh. . .um." Meryl seemed to realize that her outburst had looked a little weird, now that she thought about it. She shrugged. "Forget it. Vash, Knives looked a little better when I checked on him about an hour ago. He actually tried to move away from me, which, of course, didn't happen. I was just trying to clean the wounds on his shoulders! Where HAVE you been anyway?"  
  
"Out," Millie giggled, then put a hand over her mouth as Vash gave her a reprimanding look.  
  
"Oh, here and there," he smiled, "mostly 'there' though, as you haven't seen me."  
  
Meryl glared at him, then looked away. "I was hoping you had come up with a plan to get rid of that man after your brother, but I can see now that such a thing IS a lost cause. Anyway, it's about time you dragged your sorry self back here! I have to go to work and Millie's already late and-"  
  
He shrugged. "But I do have a plan."  
  
"Of all the impossible things that you could have said. . . huh-?"  
  
"I just told you insurance girl!" Vash glared at her. "I have a plan to save this town AND Knives at the same time! Now why don't we all go inside and I'll tell you."  
  
Meryl stepped back as Vash started to walk toward her and the door beyond. He wasn't looking at her though, he was glancing back to see if Millie was coming.   
  
So now he wasn't looking at her or calling her by her name? Feeling disappointed, but masking it with anger, Meryl took a step forward.  
  
"Why don't you just tell us out here?"  
  
This time, he did turn his head, but only to give her a condescending look that made her feel extremely dumb. It got even worse when he spoke.  
  
"Because it's hot out here Meryl, and I've been walking around in the desert all morning. I don't want to fry out here anymore then I have to. Now," he skirted by her, and entered the cool shade inside, voice softening as he held out his hand. "Why don't you come too?"   
  
***  
  
"No. . .that IS NOT going to work!"   
  
Meryl pounded her fist on the table again and rose from her chair, pushing it out of the way and glaring up at Vash. He had gained his feet as well, and they had been shouting at each other for the past five minutes. Millie was watching both of them from her own chair and trying not to laugh.  
  
"My my," she finally managed to restrain her laughter, "you two fight like an old married couple! Remember Granny and Pa Thompson Meryl? You two are just like them!"  
  
Vash stopped, eyes widening. Meryl tried to hide her blush and sat back down, smoothing out her skirt and the black nylons underneath it.  
  
"Anyway," Millie continued, watching Vash slump back down into his chair, "tell us again what the plan is. I think it made sense to me."  
  
Meryl leaned her head on one hand and nodded too. If it made sense to Millie it must be worth an actual listen. Why not?  
  
"Do you girls promise to hear me out and not interrupt thirty billion times? I mean, jeeze Meryl, every other word-"  
  
"Sure, sure," she rolled her grey-violet eyes and exhaled dramatically.  
  
"Okay. . .well, here it is then. I went back to get my coat and the guns because I'm going to have to face off against Caverral myself. Knives can't, we all know that. So I'm the only other logical choice, I mean, it's obvious that this guy isn't just suicidal if he willingly wants to fight my brother. He obviously has something up his sleeve that even Knives couldn't handle. AND," he looked across the table at Meryl, "for the disapproving part of the peanut gallery, I'd like to know what else you want me to do."  
  
"Well, for starters," she snarled back, "why don't we just leave!"  
  
"Mr. Vash can't leave," Millie interjected, "Caverral promised to kill the people in this town if he didn't fight Knives. And he'll just find us at some point anyway. I don't think he's likely to give up. So why not just take care of the problem now when we know what to expect."  
  
"Fine Millie." Meryl had known the answer all along, of course, she just didn't want to admit that the only thing holding them back from running were a bunch of people she hardly knew and a genocidal maniac. "But what about the obvious? Did you give that even a moment of thought? Vash really doesn't look much at all like Knives. I mean, they have the same nose, and they seem to be roughly the same height, but a thomas and a desert quail don't add up to two thomases' if you know what I mean."  
  
"Oh," Vash put his chin on his hands, "thanks for comparing me to a thomas."   
  
"Whatever, just answer that one thing for me and then maybe I'll think about agreeing."  
  
Vash nodded, straightened back up, and continued.  
  
"This man has obviously not seen Knives in quite a while, so I doubt he'll remember what my brother looks like other then very vaguely. Knives was busy with the Gung-Ho-Guns for some time, I think. So he had to have known Caverral before. . .um, we both had a little brotherly disagreement, because after that Knives was hurt pretty bad. Still. . .that doesn't make much sense, because you told me that this guy is little older then you two. I suppose that it's possible. . .but-"  
  
"None of this makes any sense," Meryl tilted her head to the side in her own palm. "I feel like we're missing something critical here that would bring all of these pieces together. . .but I can't-"  
  
"And that's another reason," he said, "because I want to know. If this guy has a score to settle with my brother, then he has a score to settle with me. Whatever he's after, and why, I have to know because if he's powerful enough to go LOOKING for Knives, then he's probably out to hurt others as well. . .and I can't let him."  
  
"Fine broomhead, you've convinced me." Meryl stood up and started for the hallway to their rooms. "Just don't go getting hurt again, I'm running out of bandages for you."   
  
She turned her attention toward Millie, and the two shared a look that Vash could clearly tell meant something important, but he wasn't sure what. The younger girl looked upset for a moment, and then she turned toward him.  
  
"Um. . .Mr. Vash, I have something to ask you."  
  
"Hey, fire away Millie."  
  
She hesitated, twining her fingers in her shirt.  
  
"Will you be taking the Cross Punisher with you, or just the revolvers?"  
  
Behind her, Meryl's mouth dropped open and he got the distinct impression that this wasn't what the shorter woman had been expecting. What she had been expecting, he couldn't even begin to guess at.  
  
"Um. . .I think I'll just be taking my revolver. Knives' Colt still has an aim that is slightly off. Frank Marlon fixed mine, but he didn't fix my brother's, so I'd rather go with a weapon I trust. As for the Punisher, I'll be leaving her here. If things get bad, I know that you can operate it Millie, and along with Meryl's Derringers, I want you both to stay safe. You'll do that for me?"  
  
"Yes," the younger woman nodded, "we can do that, right ma'am?"  
  
"Why wouldn't we Millie? Now come on, we have work, and I'm not looking forward to being chewed out anymore then I have to be."  
  
Millie trotted off after her partner, and then realized that Meryl had stopped in the hallway seconds before she bumped into her.   
  
"Oh, why did you stop Meryl? Huh? Oh."  
  
Millie turned to see that her friend was watching the outlaw. Vash hadn't moved, he was just standing there, watching them like a lost puppy. Meryl gave him a long glance, then turned around again, frowning.  
  
"Uh, I still have a question Meryl."  
  
The woman sighed and swiveled again, only to realize that Vash was smiling at her this time. For a moment she could almost believe that he might have finally realized how she felt. In this moment of tension was he about to ask her something she'd been waiting for?  
  
"Yes Vash?"  
  
"Well, I was wondering. . .since you did so well stitching up my coat last time. . .do you think that you could do it again?"  
  
Meryl sauntered back over to him, her smile fixed and faintly alarming. She took the coat from his outstretched hand and considered it for a moment, poking at the various holes and missing sleeve. After a moment she gazed back up at him again, her smile still pasted on as she balled up the coat in her hands. Seconds later, Kuroneko hopped out of one of the pockets and dashed away with a startled meow.  
  
"Sure Vash, right after I do this."  
  
THWACK!  
  
Meryl rolled the very useful coat back up, and danced off, leaving Vash to rub the red lump on his cheek with confusion.  
  
"Oww… fine," he whimpered, "mean insurance girl! Hey, don't walk away from me like that, I'm still talking to you! Meryl!"  
  
Endnotes: I realize that not much is ever said about Meryl's past in the anime. We know a lot about who Millie is, but very little about Meryl. We do know that she has a mom and a dad, but I'm going to take a little "artistic license" and give her siblings as well. I mean, she doesn't really act like an only child, so she probably isn't one (and no, being the "PMS Avenger" doesn't count!). Just thought you would also want to know that I've finished my rough drafts for chapters up to part three, and decided that's all the parts I need, so the number is now set. I won't be writing four parts, just three. I figured the action needed to be sped up anyway. 


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